


Honey, come set me free

by chajatta



Series: undies au [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: (BUT I GOT TO WRITE GIRLS IT WAS SO GREAT), (idk if they're present enough to warrant tagging them), Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Asshole BFF Sehun, Asshole Childhood BFF Baekhyun, M/M, Model AU, Slow Burn, girls of f(x) and red velvet appear as bg characters, past emotionally abusive relationship, underwear model au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 10:18:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 38,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5662696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chajatta/pseuds/chajatta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jongin's quiet, single lifestyle couldn't be more at odds with his day job. Life as the poster boy for one of the biggest underwear labels in South Korea is great and Jongin loves it, he does, it's just that sometimes he feels like the two halves of his life don't add up. Without the lights and the makeup and the skimpy clothes, Jongin is just an ordinary guy with all the ordinary hang ups (that is if crippling shyness and anxiety count as ordinary). Jongin has spent most of his life trying to live up to people's expectations of him, but maybe it's about time he learnt that the only people who matter will love him just the way he is. [Underwear Model AU]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honey, come set me free

**Author's Note:**

> And breeaaaaathe. I've been working on this piece for around four months and it's finally finished. It was originally inspired by [this](http://ww3.sinaimg.cn/large/005KLaFigw1eurn6mjco0j31kw23vqc5.jpg) picture of Jongin where I thought he looked a bit like an underwear model. I never actually intended to write this (or at least, I didn't believe that I could) but bits and pieces of ideas kept coming to me, and before I knew it I had a whole plot outlined. 
> 
> There are still probably bits I could tweak and change, but if I have to read through this story one more time I'm probably going to scream, so here it is. I'm incredibly proud of myself for finishing this, but I couldn't have done it without the constant cheerleading and hand-holding from L and M, who I can't thank enough for being darlings. I feel both overwhelmed with excitement but also sick with nerves at finally being able to share this, but if anyone has even a tenth as much fun reading it as I did writing, I'll be happy.
> 
> (if you liked it come and say hi on [twitter](https://twitter.com/chanbubbles) or [tumblr](http://chickyeol.tumblr.com/) :)

“Tilt your head to the left for me, Jongin, that’s it. Now push your hips up a little. There we go, that’s gorgeous, hold it there for me.”

Jongin licks his lips as the rapid _click click click_ of a camera shutter fires off around him. He turns his head a fraction more, bares the long column of his throat, and he watches as best he can as the photographer moves in closer. Jongin can feel his make up beginning to melt, sweat pooling in the little dip at the base of his neck, but he continues to hold himself still, peering up at the camera lens from beneath thick lashes. There’s one last succession of clicks and then the photographer is lowering his camera. The smile he shoots at Jongin is all teeth and gums and nearly as blinding as the lights surrounding them.

“Lovely,” he says, turning away from Jongin to face the rest of the crew. “That’s the final shot for today. Thanks for all your hard work, everyone.” There’s a chorus of replies and then chaos explodes across the set as the crew scrambles like a wave of well rehearsed army ants to disassemble it. Jongin’s barely pulled himself up off the bed they’d had him spread out over when an assistant appears by his side, a terry cloth robe clutched to her chest. 

“Thank you,” Jongin says, softly. Their fingers brush as Jongin takes the robe and the assistant nods at him vaguely before going to strip down the bed. There are bodies everywhere, carrying light fittings and furnishings off the set, and Jongin hurries to get out of their way. He pulls his robe on, grateful for the chance to finally cover up after hours of shooting, and knots the tie around his waist as he picks his way across the set. 

The photographer has already got his camera hooked up to his laptop and Jongin moves behind him, leaning over his shoulder to peer at the screen. 

“Is everything okay, Minseok-hyung?” Minseok glances behind him, still beaming, and then turns back to his laptop. Jongin watches as he quickly rifles through a few hundred shots, before he double clicks one of the thumbnails to bring it up on full screen. 

It’s a shot from the beginning of the shoot, one of Jongin kneeling on top of the partially made bed (he hadn’t _quite_ gotten around to mussing it up, yet). The muscles in his bare thighs and stomach are tensed, arms over his head as Jongin tugs his t-shirt up and off. His hair is artfully ruffled and Jongin’s laughing, mouth frozen half open with delight as he looks off to a point somewhere just to the left of the camera. The black boxer briefs they’d dressed him in rest low on his hips, the name Meteor Shower embroidered in blood red cursive just below his navel. 

It’s a nice shot, Jongin thinks. 

Minseok must agree, because he makes a copy of the file and drags it onto his pen drive. 

“Everything’s perfect, Jongin,” Minseok says, sparing Jongin a quick glance. “Go on, go and get yourself changed. I’ve got more than enough to choose from.”

Jongin bows politely, dipping his head to hide the flush that blooms across his cheeks at the praise. The neck of his dressing gown gapes as he straightens up. 

“It’s because you’re such a good photographer,” he says, “you make it easy for me.”

Minseok snorts and he spins around on his chair to tug on Jongin’s robe playfully. “You’d have to be a real idiot not to be able to shoot you well,” he says as Jongin lets out an undignified squawk and dances away to re-tie his robe. “Go on, get out of here. It’s been a pleasure but I’ve got everything I need. Go home and get some rest.”

“Thanks, hyung.” Jongin bows again and the smile Minseok levels him with is more than a little fond. “Don’t stay too late, okay?”

Minseok has already turned back to his laptop, so Jongin takes that as his cue to leave. He grabs a pair of slippers from the little rest area that had been set up for the crew and then Jongin slips off set. His footsteps are quiet as he slinks down the corridors, winding away from the studio and up towards the dressing rooms. 

 

 

Jongin’s desperate for the peace and quiet of the dressing room by the time he gets there. He slides his slippers off and drops them onto the rack by the door and then he crosses the room, stripping out of his robe as he goes. 

It’s not that Jongin doesn’t enjoy his job, quite the contrary in fact, and shooting with Minseok, someone Jongin’s grown to love as a dear friend over the long years they’ve worked together, is always fun. But that doesn’t mean Jongin doesn’t find the process of it, the baking hot lights and the make up clinging to his pores, the eyes of the crew on him as he arranges his near naked body for the camera, a little exhausting, sometimes. 

Jongin hangs his robe up and rolls his shoulders, sighing in relief when they give a satisfying crack. He’s still wearing the black briefs they’d been shooting, earlier, and Jongin trails his index finger over the waistband absently as he rummages around on the rail for his clothes. 

This particular set of photos, Jongin knows, is for a nationwide campaign due to be rolled out within the next week or so. Jongin doesn’t particularly look forward to seeing himself blown up to three times his regular size and plastered on the side of buses or across the walls of subway stations, but it’s always something of an honour to be given solo projects of this magnitude. And Jongin was especially pleased when they’d asked him to model this line of underwear. Meteor Shower is a luxury brand and all of their lines, from everyday briefs to the more practical jockstraps, are created with comfort and style at the very forefront of their designs, but Jongin has always had something of a soft spot for the autumn and winter collections. Something about the dark colours and thicker fabrics, even the cosier theme of the sets used on shoots, always has Jongin looking forward to work just that little bit more towards the tailend of the year. 

Jongin tugs a pair of skinny jeans up and over his hips and he’s just pulling a jumper over his head when the door slams open and Jongin nearly jumps out of his skin. 

Jongin turns and watches, heart still attempting to hammer through his ribcage, as a tall blond storms across the room. The robe he’s wearing is untied and billows by his sides, revealing a thin, pale chest and long, long legs. 

“ _Fuck_ , Sehun, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” Jongin says as Sehun flops dramatically onto the sofa. He huffs and glares pointedly up at Jongin. “What’s wrong with you?”

“They stuck me with a rookie photographer _again_ ,” Sehun hisses. He crosses his arms over his chest and slumps further down on the sofa, leather squeaking under the movement. “I don’t know where they got her from but she looks like she’s barely out of school. She got all upset and started crying when I asked if she even knew how to use a camera, so they had to call a break while she went off to calm down.”

“You need to stop being so mean to all the newbies,” Jongin says as he bends over, forgoing socks and pulling on his shoes. “Don’t you remember how scared we were when we first started? I probably would have cried if I had someone like you breathing down my neck, too.”

“You cry watching nature documentaries, Jongin, that doesn’t mean anything,” Sehun grumbles, but his face does soften, somewhat. 

It had been Sehun that had been scouted first, all those years ago when they were eighteen. He’d been too nervous to go to the casting audition by himself and had somehow managed to convince Jongin to come along for moral support. Except Jongin had been spotted when the two of them had stood waiting in the queue for Sehun’s group number to be called out and they’d ended up tackling the long audition process together. They’d both passed and been given contracts to model for Meteor Shower, the small under and nightwear subsidiary of the giant designer label SooMan Corp. To this day, Jongin still isn’t sure where he found the courage to go through with that first audition, but here they both are seven years later and Jongin is yet to find himself regretting his decision. 

“Where do you think you’re going so early, anyway?” Sehun asks, frowning again. Jongin can’t help but laugh. 

“Home. Which is where you could be going if you stopped fighting with all the new recruits.”

“That’s easy to say when you’re the golden boy and you have a photographer like Minseok at your beck and call,” Sehun huffs. Jongin can see where Sehun’s bare skin is starting to spring up with goosebumps, his little pink nipples pebbling in the cool air drifting from the air-conditioning. Jongin wonders, not for the first time in their friendship, why Sehun doesn’t cover himself up more.

“I don’t have Minseok at my beck and call,” Jongin hisses, an embarrassed flush creeping up the back of his neck, “and I am not the golden boy, I wish you’d stop with that. Jinri’s changed my name in her contacts to Golden Balls because of you.”

Sehun grins at Jongin’s displeasure. “I’ve always liked that girl,” he says and then quickly changes direction. “Hey, since you’re finished so early, do you want to go for a drink later?”

“Oh, I’m busy tonight-“ Jongin starts, but Sehun cuts him off.

“Going home to Skype with your mother and watch Animal Planet because you miss your dogs doesn’t count as busy, Jongin,” he scoffs. 

“I was thinking about going to the gym, actually,” Jongin says softly, wounded, but when Sehun raises one of his perfectly sculpted eyebrows they both burst into laughter. “Okay, no, I’m not going to the gym, but-“

Sehun waves one hand in Jongin’s direction. “It’s fine, suit yourself. Don’t strain yourself trying to come up with another lie, that one was terrible enough.” Sehun stands from the sofa. “I’m never going to get out of here anyway, so one of us may as well get to go home.”

Jongin rolls his eyes. “Bye Sehun,” he says as he turns to leave, “remember to play nicely.”

The last Jongin hears as he pushes the door open is a shouted, “later loser,” and then he’s wandering off down the corridor. 

It’s not quite cold enough for a scarf yet but Jongin finds himself wishing he’d brought one anyway, anything to hide his face as he steps out of the building and onto the street. The sun is just starting to disappear from the horizon, painting the sky a rich, golden orange as Jongin joins the sea of office workers heading towards the subway. 

Gangnam station is always busy at this time of day and Jongin allows himself to be swallowed up by the crowd, keeping his head dipped low as he makes his way down to the tracks. He doesn’t have to wait long for the train to arrive and Jongin digs his phone from his pocket, keeping his eyes fixed to it as the train sways and lurches. 

It’s a long ride home. Jongin’s work colleagues are constantly trying to get him to move closer to work, to find a place in Apgujeong or Sinsa, like them, but Jongin is more than happy to put up with the lengthy commute if it means a little more peace and quiet at the other end, if it means getting jostled by fewer people as he disembarks the train at Hapjeong station and finally feels relaxed enough to lift his head as he rides the escalator up away from the platform. 

The streets are relatively quiet when Jongin steps out of the station. He needs to pick up a few groceries before heading home so Jongin stuffs his hands into his pockets and crosses the road, heading to one of the larger 7/11s in the neighbourhood. 

He’s been so busy with work this last couple of days that Jongin hasn’t really had time to do anything much beyond going straight home and collapsing into bed. Even eating had been a luxury that didn’t really exist beyond the rolls of kimbap brought to him by catering between shots. But now that his part in the campaign is over and it’s all down to the editors and the rest of the crew behind the scenes, Jongin can relax and finally pick up some groceries. It’s not a chore he relishes, but the alternative of returning home to an empty refrigerator doesn’t exactly fill him with glee, either. 

Jongin grabs a basket when he slips into the convenience store. It’s far from full at this time of day, but Jongin once again laments his lack of a scarf as he wanders slowly up and down each aisle in turn. He has a list on his phone, hastily compiled on the journey home, but if he throws a couple of packets of potato chips in between the chicken breasts and fresh vegetables, well, nobody needs to know. 

Jongin’s just pulling a few bottles of water out of the fridges along the back wall when he first hears it. A cacophony of shrill, high pitched squeals from somewhere near the tills. Jongin dumps his water into his basket and determinedly keeps his head down, even as he shuffles along the aisle and closer to the source of the noise. 

There’s a group of high school girls, five of them, still in their uniforms, huddled around the magazine rack next to the cash register. Jongin turns to examine the nearest display, feigning more interest than anyone should in shelves full of cup ramen, but even as he turns away one girl looks up. Jongin sees her eyes go almost comically wide and she ducks her head back down between those of her friends.

They whisper viciously amongst themselves for a minute and then from the corner of his eye Jongin sees one girl, the one clutching the magazine they’d all been pouring over, split away from her group of friends. He barely has time to readjust the suddenly clammy grip he has on the handles of his shopping basket before she’s asking, “Excuse me, but are you Kai?”

The top of her head barely comes up to Jongin’s chin and she’s polite enough, even as she shuffles on the spot with barely restrained excitement, but Jongin still has to take a calming breath to settle himself before he nods. 

She lets out an excited little squeak, glancing back over her shoulder at her group of friends. “Please could I have your autograph? I’m a really big fan!” She asks, voice suddenly gone all breathy. She thrusts her magazine at him and Jongin scrambles to take it, balancing his basket over one arm as she digs around in her school bag. Jongin is very aware of how his fingers are leaving sweaty prints all over the glossy paper. Eventually the girl finds what she’s looking for and she holds a black marker pen out, beaming up at him.

“Yeah- yeah, of course,” Jongin says. He tries to smile at her as he takes the pen, too, hands overflowing now, but it feels more like a wobbly grimace. “What’s your name?”

“Wendy!” The girl, Wendy, says, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she watches Jongin scrawl his name across the page. The photo she’d chosen isn’t that bad, all things considered. It’s one of Jongin leaning back against a row of lockers, hair deliberately mussed to make it look like he’d just stepped off a football pitch. There’s a small strip of bare stomach showing where they’d snapped him just as he’d been about to pull his shirt up and off. Jongin’s bottom half, though, is almost completely naked, the long expanse of his legs bare and clad in nothing but a pair of tight, white boxer briefs that wrap snugly around the top of his thighs and leave very little to the imagination.

Even still, Jongin feels his face heating up as he finishes off signing, _‘to wendy, with love, kai <3’_ and hands the magazine back. He can see an old woman peering over at them with interest from the end of the refrigerator aisle, is vaguely aware of a baby crying somewhere, and as sweet as Jongin’s sure Wendy is, he’s desperate to get out of here. He casts about for something to say, but thankfully Wendy saves him the trouble. 

“Thank you so, so much! This is so cool.” Her smile grows even brighter, if possible, and Jongin shakes his head, manages to croak out, “no, it’s no trouble, really,” even as he feels his stomach twisting around over itself like a snake. “You’re even hotter in real life, my friends are going to be so jealous.” 

She thanks him again, bows with the magazine still clutched open to her chest, and then scurries off to join her friends where they’d been hovering by the door. She’s met by another chorus of high-pitched squeals and Jongin hears another girl, taller with a pretty smile, hiss, “He even drew a heart, you’re so lucky!” before all five of them disappear. The jingle of the bell over the door startles Jongin enough that he jumps and he’s sure he hears the cashier snort as he shuffles over and places his basket down.

Jongin keeps his head down as his groceries are rung through, doesn’t look up to see whether the old woman has moved on, and he barely even hears the cashier when he says, “That’ll be sixty nine thousand five hundred won.”

“What?” He’s met with a deadpan stare and Jongin blinks, comprehension dawning a second later, “Oh, right, sorry.” He fumbles his wallet out of his pocket but Jongin’s hands are shaking so badly that when he goes to get his coins out they slip from his hands and spill across the counter. “Shit, I’m so sorry, here,” Jongin quickly gathers up his money, thrusts it into the cashier’s hands, and the look he gives Jongin as he gathers up all his bags is one of pure disgust.

Jongin doesn’t breathe again until he’s out of the store and he feels the cool autumn breeze on his face. He takes in a long, deep breath and slowly feels his cheeks returning to their normal colour. It isn’t far to his flat from here (not that he’ll ever be using this particular 7/11 again, convenience be damned) and Jongin can feel himself slowly starting to calm as he walks home. The streets are practically empty, but that doesn’t stop the relieved sigh that spills out as he finally gets to his building.

Once he gets to his floor Jongin digs in his pocket for his keys, plastic bags crinkling in the silence as they’re jostled together, and the smile on his face when he gets into his flat and locks the door behind him is a little more genuine than the one he’d offered Wendy, earlier.

Jongin steps out of his shoes in the hallway and then shuffles into the kitchen to dump his bags down on the counter. His hands have finally stopped shaking but Jongin still scrubs a palm over his face as he heads into the living room, abandoning his groceries entirely in favour of throwing himself down on the sofa with a groan. 

Bumping into fans in his down time has always been on of the sides to the job that Jongin enjoys the least. It’s not that he doesn’t like meeting them, exactly, and he will always be infinitely grateful for all of the support they’ve given him, over the years. It’s just that, when he steps out from in front of the camera, bare faced and fully clothed and so painfully ordinary, Jongin can’t help but feel more than a little inadequate. He can’t help but feel as though the reality of Jongin doesn’t quite match up to everything that he pretends to be as Kai, and Jongin is always terrified of seeing that obvious disappointment in their eyes when they see him up close and realise that he isn’t everything he’s built up to be. 

Sehun used to tell him to lie, back when they first started. But as much as it turns him into a sweating, stuttering wreck, sometimes, Jongin has always had a problem saying no to people. So instead he smiles and signs and hopes that the illusion he’s trying to sell last for at least one more day. 

 

 

It’s mid-morning when the screaming of his alarm clock breaks the tranquil quiet of Jongin’s apartment. He reaches a groggy arm out from under the blankets and slaps blindly at his phone a few times before it finally, blessedly shuts off.

Eyes still glued mostly shut; Jongin drags his phone under the blankets and begins to scroll through it. There’s a stream of increasingly incoherent texts from Sehun, all post-marked between one and three am, that Jongin quickly flicks through without reading properly. There’s also an email from his manager, Joonmyun, which Jongin makes a half-hearted mental note to open later, once he’s showered and had breakfast and actually joined the world of the living. But it’s the text at the top of his inbox, marked just thirty minutes ago, that has Jongin pushing up onto his elbows and sticking his head out from the warm cocoon of sheets. 

_meet me at the tom n toms near my office at 12, its been too long since i’ve seen you. and don’t even think about saying no, you know it’s not worth the hassle :)_

Jongin rolls his eyes. Baekhyun is the only person Jongin knows that can manage to sound completely insufferable even through text. He is right though, not that Jongin would be caught dead admitting that out loud. It _has_ been a long time since they’ve seen each other. Jongin’s eyes flicker up to the time in the corner of his phone. It’s only nine-thirty and he doesn’t even need to be in work until this afternoon. There really is no reason to blow Baekhyun off. 

_sure thing, see you later hyung._

Jongin fires off the reply, going back a few times where sleep heavy fingers have him making typos, before setting his phone aside. It disappears somewhere in the folds of his quilt as Jongin throws it back and drags his body out of bed. The hardwood floor is cold against his toes as Jongin rises but his movements are still slow and sluggish as he makes his way to the bathroom. 

There might be plenty of time before Jongin needs to meet his friend, but a lifetime of friendship has taught him better than to keep Baekhyun waiting. 

 

 

It’s a few minutes to twelve when Jongin emerges from Gangnam station. Baekhyun’s office is only a few blocks away from SooMan Corp’s headquarters and Jongin trails the familiar streets without much thought. It’s windy out and Jongin’s cheeks end up bitten rosy and pink as he walks. The Tom N Toms Baekhyun had mentioned is tucked onto the corner between two streets and Jongin jogs up, eager to get out of the chill. 

The bell above the door chimes merrily as Jongin enters and he casts about for Baekhyun, but he honestly needn’t have bothered.

“Jongin-ah!” A sharp, loud voice calls out and Jongin colours with embarrassment even as he feels a smile crawling up onto his face as he spots his old friend. Baekhyun pulls himself up from the armchair he was sprawled in as Jongin approaches and as soon as he’s within range Baekhyun throws himself at him, flinging his arms around Jongin’s shoulders and drawing him down into a fierce hug. 

“Hey, hyung,” Jongin laughs. He presses his cold nose into the dip of Baekhyun’s neck and delights when Baekhyun squirms.

“It’s been way too long since I’ve seen that smile,” Baekhyun says as he pulls away, holding Jongin at arms length still and studying him. “It’s like requesting an audience with the Pope, trying to get hold of you.” 

The accusation is clear in Baekhyun’s voice and Jongin ducks his head bashfully. “Sorry, I’ve just been busy with work and-“

“Yeah, yeah,” Baekhyun scoffs, pushing Jongin off in the direction of the armchair next to him and then taking a seat himself, “and you can only go out like what, once a month? Or is it twice, now? Have your social interaction skills levelled up since the last time we met?”

“It’s months since you’ve seen me and yet you’re still such an asshole, what’s the deal with that, hyung?” Jongin asks, aiming a half-hearted kick at Baekhyun’s shins under the table when he just barks out a laugh. 

“You know how it is, Jongin, there are some things that never change.” He beams at Jongin, eyes crinkling into adorable little crescents that make him look like a high school student, even when he’s dressed in a smart, fitted suit. 

“I’m gonna go and get a drink, what do you want?” Jongin asks, but he’s only halfway out of his seat when Baekhyun reaches over and pushes him back down. 

“They’re already on the way,” Baekhyun says. Jongin quirks an eyebrow at him in confusion and Baekhyun squeezes his shoulder briefly before pulling away. “Listen, don’t freak out, but I arranged for a friend of mine to meet with us, too. He’s gone to get the drinks.”

Jongin hisses in a breath, shoulders automatically tensing. “Why? Couldn’t you have at least warned me so I could-“

Baekhyun reaches out again, settling his hand back on Jongin’s shoulder. His palm is warm through the soft wool of Jongin’s jumper and the weight of it calms his breathing just a fraction. “So you could what? Bail on me?” Jongin opens his mouth to protest but Baekhyun shoots him a knowing look and it swings shut like a drawbridge. “I know you don’t like meeting new people, but I’m here, aren’t I? What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Where do you want me to start?” Jongin grumbles. Baekhyun’s hand slides up to the back of his neck and Jongin sighs as he squeezes it reassuringly, the silver ring on Baekhyun’s finger brushing cold over the knob of his spine and sending a jolt down Jongin’s back. 

“His name’s Chanyeol, we used to be roommates in university,” Baekhyun says, the corners of his lips curling up into a smile when Jongin starts to relax under his touch. “He’s really chatty and super easy to talk to, I think you’ll like him. Come on, Jongin, it’ll do you some good.”

“You are such a dick,” Jongin says, “I should have ditched you in high school, when I had the chance.”

“Then who would have bought you your first beer and let you sleep off the hangover at their house so your parents didn’t see you drunk if not for me, huh?” Baekhyun grins, as if Jongin’s tiny teenage rebellion hadn’t been entirely his fault. 

“Are you never gonna let that go? It was one time-“ Jongin starts, but he’s cut off by the sound of footsteps approaching their table. 

“Hey, you must be Jongin,” the stranger says, voice pleasantly deep. “Baekhyun said you didn’t like coffee so I got you a hot chocolate, I hope that’s okay.” Baekhyun’s hand disappears from the back of his neck and Jongin feels his breath stick in the back of his throat as he looks up. 

The man in front of him is handsome, there’s no denying that, not with his open, smiling face and the unruly mop of dark hair that curls down around his ears. He’s tall, too, enough so that he looms over the table as he pushes Jongin’s hot chocolate towards him.

“Um, yeah. That’s fine,” Jongin manages, taking his drink and immediately gulping down a mouthful. It sears across his tongue as he struggles to swallow it down. Baekhyun snorts next to him. 

“Jongin, this is Chanyeol,” he says, taking the mug Chanyeol offers to him with a raised eyebrow. “What did you get me?”

“White Americano with five sugars, just the way you like it,” Chanyeol says and even though his smile is directed at Baekhyun, Jongin feels temporarily blinded. “So, Jongin, Baekhyun’s told me a lot about you.” He pauses to take a sip of his drink and Jongin almost chokes.

“He has?” Jongin asks, shooting Baekhyun a panicked look. 

“I might have mentioned you a few times when we were at uni, that’s all,” Baekhyun says.

“He told me you guys grew up together?” Chanyeol says enthusiastically. “That’s so cool that you’re still friends now. I think the only person I go back that far with is my sister, especially since I moved away. I lost touch with almost everyone, except for Baekhyunnie. I would’ve been almost completely alone in the city when I came back if it wasn’t for him.”

“I’m a real life superhero, what can I say?” Chanyeol reaches out to cuff Baekhyun around the ear playfully. Jongin watches from beneath his lashes. 

“I wouldn’t normally flatter your ego, but you let me sleep on your sofa until I found my own place, so I guess I kind of owe you a few compliments.” 

“You’re not from Seoul?” Jongin asks quietly. Chanyeol turns that warm smile towards him and Jongin drops his gaze, staring down at his mug so that he doesn’t have to meet Chanyeol’s eyes.

“Seoul born and bred,” Chanyeol says, not without a dash of pride. “I moved to Fiji a couple of years ago, but between work and everything else I fell out of contact with almost everyone. Baekhyun clung on like a barnacle, though.”

Baekhyun snorts around his coffee. “You weren’t calling me a barnacle when I was sending you care packages of chocolate every other month, you cheeky little shit.”

Chanyeol laughs loudly enough that Jongin startles and sloshes some of his drink over his fingers. “Best barnacle I ever did meet, babe.”

“What were you-“ Jongin’s voice cracks and he takes a moment to clear his throat, even as Chanyeol turns back to him, tilting his head to one side like a dog as he regards Jongin patiently. “What were you doing in Fiji?”

Baekhyun groans off to the side. Jongin’s eyes flicker over to him briefly before he’s drawn back to Chanyeol like a magnet.

“I’m studying for my PhD in marine biology at Seoul National,” Chanyeol says. His fingers are drumming against the table, tapping out a rhythm that sends tiny tremors through the wood. “I went out there to study sharks as part of my doctorate research. Their numbers, behaviour, general health, stuff like that.”

Chanyeol looks like he’s brimming with excitement, but Jongin’s mouth works before his brain has a chance to catch up with it, and he blurts out, “ _You’re_ doing a PhD at Seoul National University?”

Baekhyun howls with laughter next to them, knees slamming up against the underside of the table as his whole body curls in on itself with mirth. Jongin feels his entire face flush red with embarrassment and he’s tempted to crawl under the table and let the floor swallow him whole.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean- it’s just-“ Jongin splutters, but Chanyeol is grinning at him again. He reaches out to pat Jongin’s hand, almost covering the whole of Jongin’s palm.

“It’s okay, I get that a lot. It’s a very prestigious university and I don’t exactly look like I could be a doctor, do I?”

“No,” Baekhyun says, only partly recovered. “Mad scientist maybe, but doctor? No, you definitely hide that one well.”

Chanyeol rolls his eyes and slowly draws his hand back to his own side of the table. Jongin definitely doesn’t lament the loss of warmth. 

“So, how about you, Jongin? What do you do?” The question is innocent enough, but it still has Jongin stiffening up in his seat as he fumbles for an answer. 

“Oh, I- I work in fashion,” Jongin mumbles, lowering his gaze down to the table. He can feel his heart beating a little faster against his ribcage and he tries valiantly not to let the sudden spike in his blood pressure show. “You wouldn’t be interested in it, though, it’s really boring.”

“More boring than _sharks_?” Baekhyun scoffs.

“Hey, sharks are a very important part of the marine ecosystem and they’re totally interesting, right Jongin?” Jongin smiles weakly up at him. He drops one hand down below the table and squeezes Baekhyun’s thigh gratefully for the deflection. “Besides, you have no room to talk. Statistical analysis and data reconfiguration? _Really?_ What even _is_ that, Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun and Chanyeol continue their good-natured bickering for a while. Chanyeol attempts to draw Jongin into the conversation a few times and he doesn’t seem put off by Jongin’s limited responses. If anything, they just seem to make him try that little bit harder, and he seems genuinely put out when Jongin pushes the last dregs of his drink away and moves to stand up. 

“I better get going or I’ll be late for work,” Jongin says. Baekhyun stands with him and draws him down into another bone crushing hug. 

“I’ll call you soon, okay, Jonginah? You have to stop being such a stranger,” Baekhyun says. He presses his face into Jongin’s neck and whispers, “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” 

Jongin pulls away and levels Baekhyun with a long suffering look, but he’s smiling even as feels his cheeks heating up again. “I will.” Chanyeol’s eyes flick up almost guiltily when Jongin turns to look at him but the curious expression is gone so quickly Jongin is almost convinced he imagined it. 

“It was nice to meet you, Jongin,” he says, dipping his head politely. “Have a good day at work.”

“You too.” Jongin can’t hold eye contact for longer than a few seconds and he glances over at Baekhyun instead, squeezes the back of his neck a little more roughly than necessary when he sees the way Baekhyun’s smirking at him. “See you soon, hyung.” 

“Later, brat,” Baekhyun slaps him away and Jongin scurries out of the coffee shop. His face is still flushed with colour when he steps outside, so warm that Jongin is grateful for the wind that whips through the air. 

 

 

The remainder of Jongin’s day passes by in something of a blur. 

Joonmyun collars him almost as soon as he steps into the building and Jongin only regrets not opening his email this morning a little bit when Joonmyun lets out a resigned sigh and drags him off to his office. 

After Joonmyun’s finished with him, Jongin is sent off in the direction of the design studios. He spends the rest of his afternoon shooting the shit with one of the designers, Amber, as she consults him for some new designs they’re in the process of creating. She has him try on a few pieces they’re hoping to release as part of the Christmas collection and Jongin stands obediently as she makes adjustments, even when she accidentally jabs him with a pin hard enough to draw blood. 

He tries not to think about Chanyeol at all, to push him to the back of his mind, and in his own personal opinion, Jongin thinks he does a pretty good job. It’s not until he’s back home much later, curled up in front of the TV with a takeout container full of mandu that the ahjumma from the restaurant downstairs had forced on him when she’d seen him coming home, that Jongin’s carefully enforced oblivion is shattered. 

His phone buzzes innocuously and Jongin doesn’t even look away from the repeat of Running Man playing on the TV as he picks it up. It’s probably just Sehun, anyway, trying to wheedle Jongin into going out as always. 

_hi jongin. i hope you dont mind that im texting you. i asked baekhyun for your no. and he said itd be okay :S anyway i was just wondering if you wanted to go for dinner some time? if not thats cool too! but i think youre really cute and id like to get to know you!_

Jongin sits, shell-shocked, a dumpling held frozen halfway to his mouth. His phone chimes again, alerting him to another message, and Jongin nearly has a heart attack. 

_this is chanyeol btw. but you probably guessed that! :)_

Jongin stares down at his phone like it’s just sprouted fangs. In a moment of panic he almost throws it aside, but he just barely manages to restrain himself and shoves the hovering mandu into his mouth instead. He’s going to kill Baekhyun, that absolute rat bastard. Jongin would bet his left leg that Baekhyun had been positively gleeful when he’d handed Jongin’s number over. In fact, Jongin wouldn’t put it past him for all of this to have been part of his plan in the first place. 

His phone still sits in his clammy palm, winking cheerfully up at him. Jongin sighs and puts his food aside. Most of his brain is screaming at him to just ignore it, to turn his phone off and shove it between the sofa cushions and pretend like he’d never even seen the texts. Baekhyun is their only mutual friend, their only point of contact; Jongin need never see Chanyeol again if he doesn’t want to. 

But another part of him, a part that sounds traitorously like Baekhyun, screams at him to answer Chanyeol, at least. He was attractive, the Baekhyun voice helpfully provides, and Jongin sighs even as he idly swipes his thumb up and down in the chat window. 

It wasn’t that bad, Baekhyun had said, and it wasn’t. Jongin has had much worst first encounters with people. But even still, Jongin can’t help but think back to the last time he’d lowered his walls enough to let someone in close, can’t help but remember the way that had crashed and burned around him. And that was even if they managed to get that far. Baekhyun had been right when he’d mentioned himself, how he’d be there to act as a buffer for Jongin when the nerves got too much. But what about when he wasn’t there? What about when Chanyeol and Jongin were alone, and Jongin would inevitably run out of things to say, and he’d have to excuse himself to the bathroom to give himself a moment to get his shit together so he didn’t cry from the anxiety. Surely Chanyeol wouldn't find him so cute then, and Jongin isn’t sure he’s willing to put himself through that. 

Jongin groans again. He can feel a headache coming on. 

He looks down at his phone. He’d pressed his thumb down on the first message without thinking and Jongin reads through it again, _i think youre really cute_ , and a third time, _if not thats cool too!_

Jongin reaches over to shove another mandu into his mouth and then he begins to type out a reply. 

_Yeah, it’s okay. Um. It might be a while, work keeps me really busy, but dinner would be cool. If you want to._

Jongin’s just barely recovering from the resulting miniature panic attack after he hits send when his phone lights up again. 

_no prob! i have classes monday and thursday, so just let me know whats good for you. you have my number so feel free to text me any time :)_

Jongin breathes heavily through his nose. Even through his texts Chanyeol’s energy seems boundless but Jongin focuses on the middle part of the message, the _whats good for you_ , and despite the way his hands are still trembling Jongin feels the corners of his mouth curl up into a tiny smile. 

_Okay. I will._

Jongin hesitates for a second before tacking onto the end,

_It was really nice to meet you today._

Just as Jongin is quickly coming to expect, Chanyeol’s reply comes almost immediately. Jongin reaches out for his discarded mandu and he chews on one, a little more thoughtfully now that he’s calmed down a bit, as he reads. 

_you too!! i just wish baekhyun had warned me that you were so attractive when he said i’d be meeting you. i could have at least brushed my hair kkkk. i have a lot of work to do so i better go, but ill look forward to seeing you again!! enjoy the rest of your evening :)_

That isn’t a pang of regret in Jongin’s chest, it absolutely isn’t. It’s heartburn from shoving mandu down his throat in a panic. His mother always used to warn him about that when he was little. 

_It’s okay. The dishevelled mad scientist look suits you. Goodnight Chanyeol._

There’s a long moment of pause after Jongin sends that message, long enough that Jongin turns his attention back to the TV. There’s an advert playing for cat litter but Jongin watches the tiny, white kitten prance across the screen without really seeing it. His phone chirps again and Jongin nearly drops it in his haste to open the message. 

_goodnight jongin :)_

Jongin smiles a little weakly and then closes the message window. He scrolls through his apps until he lands on Kakao Talk and then drags up his message log with Baekhyun. 

That asshole was so dead.

 

 

“You know, I’m almost tempted to ask whether you pulled last night.”

Jongin jumps almost out of his skin and he hastily shoves his phone into the pocket of his robe. Song Qian bops the end of his nose with her powder brush and then goes back to applying his makeup. 

“What are you talking about?” Jongin asks. Sehun flops down into the chair next to him and Jongin blinks at him sleepily through the mirror mounted on the wall in front of them. 

“The way you were smiling just then. I haven’t seen you smile like that since-“

“Yes, _thank_ you, Sehun,” Jongin says quickly, cuts Sehun off before he can go too far down that particular road. Jongin’s romantic past isn’t a topic he likes to talk about at the best of times, let alone this early in the morning. Song Qian taps him gently on the chin and Jongin tilts his head up. 

“Fine, fine, be cagey. But I should tell you that I spoke to Baekhyun last night, and I know you two went out for coffee last week, and I also know you weren’t alone.” Sehun’s smile is almost wolfish. Jongin purposely avoids his gaze in the mirror. 

“There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t regret introducing the two of you,” Jongin whines. “And anyway, so what if we weren’t alone, that doesn’t mean anything.”

“No?” Sehun asks, leaning in close to Jongin over the arm of his own chair. “Who were you texting, then?”

“Nobody!” Jongin says immediately. His phone chooses that moment to chime in his pocket and Jongin squirms in his seat. If possible, Sehun’s grin widens further. Even Song Qian giggles, that traitor, and Jongin shoots her a wounded look. 

“Nobody, huh? It’s just that Baekhyun told me this friend of his, this _Chanyeol_ , asked for your number, so it’s got me thinking.” Sehun makes a show of examining his nails, digs a little dirt out from under one before he looks up at Jongin again. “I can never get you to reply to my messages but you’re attached to your phone all of a sudden? It’s just a little out of character, that’s all. But hey if you say there’s nothing going on, then I believe you.”

Jongin feels his face colour. “There isn’t.”

“Okay,” Sehun drawls, drawing the word out until it stretches syrupy sweet between them. He might be letting it drop for now, but they both know that Sehun isn’t going to give up that easily. They sit quietly for a few minutes as Song Qian finishes up Jongin’s makeup and then when she moves to start on Sehun, Jongin speaks again. 

“So, Sunyoung’s shooting you today, right? You must be happy not to be working with the rookies again.”

“Yeah, finally,” Sehun says. He looks over at Jongin with a knowing smile but he turns away when Song Qian chides him and Jongin breathes a little sigh of relief. “I was this close to going to Joonmyun and complaining.”

“You? Complaining?” Jongin laughs. “Never.”

Sehun gives him the finger and they segue easily into safe, benign conversation, Song Qian chattering away happily about her little girl. Jongin’s phone burns a constant weight in his pocket, but he doesn’t dare get it out with Sehun still around. It’d been almost a week since Jongin had met Chanyeol and despite what he’d said to Sehun, they’ve been texting almost every day since then. 

Jongin is almost loath to admit it, but Baekhyun had been right. Chanyeol is almost criminally easy to talk to. He sends Jongin throwaway little snapshots of his day, photos of his coffee and his office at the university, and Jongin finds it all horribly charming. He doesn’t seem put off by Jongin’s sometimes short and stilted replies and that helps Jongin to relax a little, helps to alleviate some of the pressure that he usually feels when trying to talk to someone new. 

They still haven’t arranged to go out for that dinner, but Chanyeol hasn’t mentioned it since, hasn’t pressed the issue, for which Jongin finds himself endlessly grateful. Whatever’s good for you Chanyeol had said, and Jongin almost believes that he’d really meant it. 

“-in? Are you listening to me? Jongin.” There’s a touch on his shoulder and Jongin startles. When he tips his head back, Joonmyun is staring down at him, his face settled into that familiar, perpetually worried look. “Jongin, your shoot’s about to start, they want you down on set.”

“Right, right, sorry I was just-“

“Yes, yes, it’s alright, but come along, I don’t want you to be late.” Joonmyun’s fingers dig into his shoulder and Jongin stands. Sehun rolls his eyes when Joonmyun turns away and Jongin doesn’t bother trying to hide his grin as he scurries off down the corridor in Joonmyun’s wake. 

 

 

It’s late when Jongin’s finally released from work. There had been a problem with some of the light fittings half way through the shoot and everyone had been forced to wait around while they called the techs down to fix it. Joonmyun had hurried off to the dressing room to grab a book for Jongin to keep him occupied, and Jongin had retired to the corner of the set gratefully to wait out the delay in peace. 

He’d been half tempted to text Chanyeol, to return the message he’d been composing this morning before he was interrupted by Sehun, but as soon as Jongin had pulled out his phone a wave of guilt had crashed over him. There was something very wrong, Jongin thought, about texting Chanyeol when he was sat on the set of a magazine shoot in a dressing gown and a skimpy pair of underpants. How could he, when he hadn’t even had the courage to tell Chanyeol what he did for a living? So Jongin had placed his phone face down on the table and buried his nose in his book, determined to shove all thoughts of Chanyeol to the back of his mind. 

That was, until now. The one benefit to finishing work so late was that the subway is almost dead by the time Jongin gets there, and he’s able to find a seat on the train without trouble. 

When the train pulls into Seoul National University station, Jongin’s eyes flicker up and his hand automatically goes to his phone. He snaps a shot of the station sign just before the train begins to crawl away and opens up his message history with Chanyeol. 

_Look where I am._

Jongin sends off the picture before he can think twice about it. He goes to open up Naver, to scroll through the news for the rest of the journey, but with what Jongin has come to realise is typical of Chanyeol, his phone dings immediately in his hand with his reply.

_hey!! as much as i’d like to think it’s because youre coming to visit me, what brings you down here? are you a secret snu alumni and you just dont like to talk about it because then youd really be the full package of brains AND beauty?_

Jongin feels a pleased heat rise to his face and he’s glad the train is so quiet. The only other occupants of this carriage are a businessman who’s struggling to stay awake about five seats away and a pair of ahjummas Jongin can hear complaining about their husbands even from some distance away. 

_As if. I’m just passing through on my way home._

_oh wow its so late, have you only just finished work?? you must be exhausted. i hope you dont have much further to go._

Jongin glances up from his phone. It’s dark outside but he can see the twinkling of lights not far away as the train begins to speed over the river. 

_Not too far now. Hey, listen. I’m not working this weekend. We could go for dinner, if you’re free. And if you still want to._

Jongin feels his heart rate start to pick up once he hits send. He stares determinedly out of the window, at the lights coming closer and closer, until the train finally crosses the river and plunges back underground. 

_of course i still want to :) hows saturday evening for you? do you like italian? i know a nice place in sinsa._

Jongin sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. Saturday night in Sinsa wasn’t exactly what he would have chosen and knowing his luck they’d end up bumping into someone from work. Jongin hesitates but he can’t think of a good excuse he could give without having to explain why he absolutely did not want to go to Sinsa, of all places. 

_Yeah, sounds like a plan. I’m at my stop now so I gotta go._

The train lurches to a standstill and Jongin rises from his seat. The businessman’s head knocks against the window and Jongin spares him a glance as he leaves. His phone goes off in his hand but Jongin doesn’t look at it again until he’s off the platform and through the barriers. 

_okay, great!! ill make us some reservations and text you the details. let me know when youre home._

Jongin shoves his phone into his pocket and he’s grateful for the fresh, cool air against his face once he’s finally above ground again. The streets are quiet but Jongin’s mind is whirring, his brain working relentlessly as he makes his way home. Half of the company lived in and around Sinsa and Jongin knows it’s just going to be another thing for him to worry himself sick about, bumping into someone he knows, on top of the normal gut wrenching nerves of a date. But more than that he can’t stop thinking about the last bit of Chanyeol’s message, and his stomach is rolling not entirely unpleasantly by the time he gets to his apartment building. 

Jongin slips his shoes off in the hallway and flicks on the light. His apartment is still and quiet and Jongin throws himself onto the sofa, lies there on his stomach with his face pressed into the pillows for a good long while. He has to push his hips up to get his phone out of his pocket but once he manages it Jongin fires off a quick reply. 

_I’m home._

It’s tempting to drift off where he is but Jongin’s stomach grumbles and he pushes himself up onto one elbow just in time to see his phone light up. 

_good :) you must be tired so ill let you go, but ill talk to you soon. and i look forward to seeing you on saturday. ill even brush my hair ;)_

Jongin sits himself up on his knees and it’s more than just hunger that has his stomach twisting. 

_I might not recognise you. Goodnight Chanyeol._

Once Chanyeol’s reply comes in wishing him similarly, Jongin tosses his phone aside. It disappears between the sofa cushions and Jongin slumps back for a moment, running his hands over his face to try and settle the nerves he can feel rising up in his stomach. 

Saturday was only three days away. If Jongin managed to get through the rest of the week without having a mental breakdown or spontaneously combusting in a fit of anxiety, it would be nothing short of a miracle. There was one thing he knew he was going to have to do if he was going to make it as far as Saturday. 

He was going to have to avoid Sehun at all costs. 

 

 

Three days fly by at an almost alarming rate. 

Jongin’s nerves increase exponentially and he ends up withdrawing into his shell at work. Even Sehun, after a few attempts, had given up asking Jongin what was the matter.

As promised, Chanyeol had texted him the details on Thursday night, and by the time Saturday afternoon rolls around, Jongin feels physically sick. He almost messages Chanyeol to cancel. He sits on the edge of the bed with his bare toes curled against the hardwood floor and his phone in hand, but in the end he doesn’t have the courage to. Instead Jongin tries to drown himself in the shower and when that doesn’t work he returns to his bedroom in nothing but a towel, leaving a dripping trail across the floor behind him. 

Jongin flings his wardrobe open and even the prospect of trying to find something to wear is feels like almost too much to think about. He wishes he could call Baekhyun, or even Sehun, for advice. They’re both much better at this than he is. Sehun, in particular, has impeccable dress sense, but in the end Jongin decides that the inevitable barrage of teasing he’d endure if he called either of them would be the final straw to convince him not to go. 

After a couple more agonising minutes of deliberation, Jongin settles on a plain, white button down shirt and a pair of smart, black slacks. He lays them both out on his bed and whips his towel from around his hips to finish patting himself dry. 

Jongin goes through the motions of getting dressed almost mechanically. He draws his underwear and his pants up his legs deliberately, pulls the shirt over his shoulders and has to remind himself to breathe with each button he threads closed over his chest. He splashes a little cologne on the undersides of his wrists and the hollow his neck and hopes desperately that he doesn’t smell like he’s trying too hard. 

It’s been a long time since Jongin’s been out on a date but he doesn’t remember his nerves ever exploding like this before. Jongin takes one last look at himself in the mirror on the back of his bedroom door, grimaces at his wan reflection, and then sweeps out of the room before he can change his mind. Jongin grabs his phone off the arm of the sofa and he only pauses in the hallway to slip into his shoes and grab his coat and keys. 

The subway is predictably busy for a Saturday night and it only gets worse the closer to Sinsa he gets. Jongin pulls the collar of his pea coat up to try and hide his face when he has to change trains. The second train is even more crowded than the first and Jongin feels his stomach roll more and more aggressively as he’s wedged between the door and a group of young women in cocktail dresses and towering high heels. 

The train finally lurches to a stop at Sinsa station and Jongin all but falls through the doors when they open. His phone buzzes in his pocket and Jongin tugs it out as he follows the hoards across the platform and onto the escalator. 

_im outside the station now! i havent been out on a saturday for a really long time, is it always this busy or am i just getting old?_

Jongin chews on his lip and his fingers are trembling as he taps out a reply. 

_You know how Sinsa is. I’ll be a couple of minutes._

Jongin stuffs his phone back into his pocket as he reaches the top of the escalator and he doesn’t move to get it even when he feels it buzz against his thigh with Chanyeol’s reply. He almost drops his T-money card as he swipes through the barriers and Jongin has to take a minute to gather his composure before he can head towards the exit. 

It’s even busier once Jongin gets above ground. There are people everywhere, couples and groups of friends, and Jongin is momentarily overwhelmed. He tries to avoid this side of the river during the weekends for this very reason. Jongin attempts to spot Chanyeol amongst the sea of bodies but he’s jostled from behind, someone rushing out from the subway and shoving by him without apology. Jongin stumbles away, disgruntled, and he’s about to go and try to find himself somewhere safe to stand so he can text Chanyeol when a deep voice calls out from nearby. 

“Jongin! You made it!” Jongin’s head whips up and when he sees Chanyeol his throat almost closes up. 

In the weeks that had gone by since they’d first met, it was easy enough for Jongin to pretend that Chanyeol wasn’t as handsome as he’d first thought, that it was his mind filling in the blanks that had stretched after that single meeting. But with Chanyeol before him in the flesh like this, Jongin can’t pretend that it’s just his imagination running riot. 

If Chanyeol had bemoaned his lack of warning last time, he’s certainly making up for it now. He strides towards Jongin on legs so impossibly long that Jongin can’t believe he didn’t notice them last time. He has a black turtleneck on beneath a navy blue overcoat, but his ears are still tinged pink where they stick out from beneath his hair. It’s coiffed up and out of his face and he’s beaming when Jongin finally meets his gaze. 

“I was worried we wouldn’t be able to find each other in this crowd, but I saw that asshole pushing everyone out of the way and then I saw you.” Something flickers across Chanyeol’s face and his smile softens a little. “You look amazing.” 

Jongin’s face immediately floods with colour and he lowers his head. He scrambles for something to say, but it feels like there’s a melon lodged in his throat and it’s all Jongin can do not to croak. Chanyeol doesn’t seem too discouraged, though, not if the arm he offers out for Jongin is anything to go by.

“Shall we get out of here? I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” Chanyeol says. “I kept pulling up the menu online when I was supposed to be doing work and I’m still half tempted to just order one of everything.”

Jongin hopes the smile he offers Chanyeol isn’t too wobbly. He slides his hand through to latch onto Chanyeol’s elbow and he tries not to dig his fingers too roughly into the soft, warm wool there even as he clings to Chanyeol’s body like it’s a life buoy.

They make only partly awkward small talk on the way to the restaurant. Jongin manages to swallow the lump in his throat to offer up a few replies, even though the close proximity to Chanyeol has his head spinning. 

Once they arrive at the restaurant, Jongin regretfully slides his hand away from the crook of Chanyeol’s arm. They’re shown straight to their table by a waiter in a bow tie. He waits until they’re both seated before handing them a menu each. Jongin wants to crawl under the table and die when he fumbles the menu and drops it to the floor. The waiter picks it up and hands it back to Jongin without pause and then begins to read them the specials. Jongin takes a deep breath, tries to calm his breathing, and he’s so focused on the rhythm of inhale, one, two, three and exhale, that he almost misses it when Chanyeol speaks to him. 

“-want anything to drink?” Chanyeol’s smile is gentle as he regards him and Jongin feels his breathing slowly plateau and even out. 

“Just some water, please.” 

“A jug of water for the table then, please.” The waiter immediately bows and leaves to get their drinks. 

“You’re not drinking?” Jongin asks him after a beat of silence. Chanyeol shakes his head. 

“Nah, I drove tonight so I can’t.” He laughs a little at the look of surprise on Jongin’s face. “I know it would have been easier to get the subway, what with the traffic and everything, but ever since I’ve been back home it’s been nice to have a car again and the luxury hasn’t quite worn off yet.”

“You didn’t have a car in Fiji?” Jongin asks. He fingers the edges of the menu a little as he speaks, but Jongin feels himself relaxing ever so slightly. 

“There was no need. I lived in a little house right by the beach and I could walk pretty much everywhere I needed.” Chanyeol smiles wistfully and Jongin can’t help notice the way his eyes crinkle at the corners. 

“It sounds amazing,” Jongin says softly and he definitely isn’t imagining the way Chanyeol must have looked working beneath the sun, certainly isn’t thinking about whether that faint smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose is a result of two years of being continuously sun kissed.

“Yeah, but Seoul is pretty amazing, too.” The restaurant is dimly lit but Jongin can still see the way Chanyeol’s eyes sparkle. He finds that he can’t look away. “I’m happy to be home. I missed it.” 

Chanyeol looks like he’s about to say more, but the waiter returns at that moment with their water. He sets the glasses out before them and Jongin takes the opportunity to look through the menu, deliberately lifting it higher than necessary so that it covers half of his face. The waiter finishes pouring their drinks and when he asks if they’re ready to order Jongin gestures for Chanyeol to go first. 

Chanyeol deliberates for long enough before settling on a prawn linguine that Jongin is ready for the waiter when he turns to him. He orders grilled chicken and Jongin laments the loss of his menu a little more than he probably should when the waiter takes it from him. 

He casts about for something to say, feels that familiar panic beginning to set in when he draws up a blank, but fortunately Chanyeol doesn’t seem to have any such problems. He asks Jongin about his job, which Jongin neatly side steps, though not without a small rise in his blood pressure and a slightly larger amount of guilt. When Chanyeol asks about his family, though, Jongin latches onto that happily, telling Chanyeol about his sisters and his niece. He whips his phone out to show a picture of his dogs and is only momentarily crestfallen when Chanyeol laughs and tells him that he loves dogs enough that being allergic doesn’t stop him petting any dog that walks by. 

They continue to chat amiably enough even when the food comes, and Jongin is just beginning to think that maybe this isn’t so bad, when a new couple is seated a couple of tables away from them. 

The girl locks eyes with him as her boyfriend pulls her chair out and Jongin feels the bottom drop out from his stomach when she double takes. He’s seen that look on enough people to realise it for the recognition it is. Chanyeol is talking animatedly enough about his sister that he doesn’t notice, but why should he? Why should he notice anything when he has no idea who Jongin is, not really, when he has no idea what Jongin does? 

Jongin skewers a piece of chicken on the end of his fork and shoves it into his mouth. He keeps his head down for the rest of the meal, but he can still see the way the girl keeps shooting him furtive glances from the corner of his eye. He tries to keep up the conversation with Chanyeol, he really does, but Jongin’s so busy praying to a God he doesn’t even believe in that she doesn’t come over, that he can barely concentrate for long enough to give much more than short, one word answers. 

They finish up their meals and, without any further excuse to look down at the table, Jongin lifts his head. The girl isn’t looking at him anymore but Jongin still feels antsy and he squirms in his seat. 

“Do you want to get dessert?” Chanyeol asks and he looks almost taken aback by how suddenly Jongin shakes his head. His smile slips a little and Jongin feels wretched. 

“No, no, it’s okay, I’m so full I couldn’t eat another bite.” It’s not a lie, not exactly, not to mention the fact Joonmyun would have his ass on a platter, but Chanyeol still looks a little disheartened. 

They settle up the bill and Jongin feels his pulse hammering as they stand from the table and the couple glance over in his direction again. The girl looks up at him with bright eyes and Jongin stares down at the floor as he tugs his coat on, tries not to feel guilty as he deliberately places himself on Chanyeol’s other side and uses his body as a shield as they leave the restaurant. 

It’s still busy outside but Jongin breathes a little sigh of relief as they get out into the fresh air. Chanyeol studies him a little strangely but he still offers Jongin his arm and Jongin takes it gratefully as they head back to the station. Jongin hadn’t noticed it earlier, in his panic, but Chanyeol smells delightfully sweet, like vanilla, and Jongin leans in a little closer as they amble down the street. 

“Hey, listen,” Chanyeol’s voice rumbles and breaks Jongin out of his reverie. “I can give you a ride home, if you want. You shouldn’t have to get the subway at this time.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay, honestly,” Jongin insists, but he doesn’t pull away from where he’s tucked against the side of Chanyeol’s body. “I don’t want you to put yourself out.” 

Chanyeol laughs and it warms Jongin pleasantly. “You live somewhere along line two, right? That’s hardly out of the way.” 

“Hapjeong,” Jongin answers. It feels strange, telling Chanyeol where he lives, Chanyeol who he’s still only met twice, but somehow Jongin finds that he doesn’t mind too much. 

“It’s up to you, but I’m happy to take you home, if you want,” Chanyeol tilts his head down to look at Jongin, “or you can get the subway. It’s your call.”

_It’s up to you_. Jongin only hesitates for a second longer and then he smiles, ducking his head against Chanyeol’s shoulder to hide it from view. “Yeah, okay, if you’re sure.” 

“I’m sure, come on.” Chanyeol hooks Jongin’s hand over his elbow a little more deliberately and tugs him past the subway station. They only walk a few blocks to the valet car parking where Chanyeol must have left his car earlier. The valet greets Chanyeol with a bow and he runs off to retrieve Chanyeol’s car for him. It’s a non-descript little three door, but Jongin still slides in gratefully when the valet opens the passenger door for him. 

Chanyeol flicks the radio over onto some 90s rock station and Jongin is glad for the background noise. He gazes out onto the street, out onto the people still crowding the pavement for whom the night is still young, and he’s glad of the comfortable quiet that’s settled between them in the car. Chanyeol hums along to the radio as he drives, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

The lights of the city twinkle before Jongin’s eyes and they dim only a fraction as they join the stream of taxis crossing the river. Jongin peers out at the dark expanse of the Han and it never fails to make him feel small and insignificant. He has to pulls his gaze away from the window and direct Chanyeol once they get to Hapjeong. They turn off the main road, peeling off from the stream of taxis heading up to Hongdae, and before long Chanyeol is guiding the car into the underground lot beneath Jongin’s apartment building. 

“Listen, Jongin,” Chanyeol starts, just as Jongin opens his mouth to speak. Jongin swings his mouth shut but Chanyeol shakes his head. “Go on, you first.”

“I was just going to apologise, for if- for if this wasn’t what you expected. If I was too nervous or it was too awkward or-“ Jongin looks down at his lap. “I just, I haven’t been on a date for a long time and I find it kind of hard to talk to people, especially when you’re so hot-“ Jongin immediately feels his face flush and he clenches his mouth shut with embarrassment. Chanyeol’s answering laugh is loud and joyous. 

“I thought maybe you weren’t actually interested, you were just to polite to say so.” 

“No, no, I’m interested.” It feels good, in a funny sort of way, to actually admit it out loud. “I am, it’s just I’m really not good at this, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, you don’t need to apologise,” Chanyeol says, voice soft. He reaches out to slide his thumb and forefinger beneath Jongin’s chin and tilts his face up. “It’s adorable. You’re adorable. I just wanted to be sure I wasn’t wasting your time.”

“You’re not,” Jongin answers and if his voice comes out a little breathless it’s from the proximity of Chanyeol’s face, close enough that Jongin could count those freckles across his nose, if he wanted to. It’s probably the proximity that makes Jongin lean across and brush his mouth against Chanyeol’s, too. 

Chanyeol makes a little sound of surprise and Jongin pulls away. Chanyeol’s fingers fall away from his chin. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-“ Jongin starts, but Chanyeol smiles. 

“Don’t apologise,” Chanyeol says again, voice even softer as he leans forward to close the distance between them, this time. It’s been so long since the last time Jongin was kissed but his body still sings beneath the fleeting pleasure of it. It doesn’t last long, or maybe that’s just Jongin, maybe he’s already greedy for the taste of Chanyeol’s mouth. 

“Just let me know when you’re free from work and we can arrange another date.” Chanyeol’s eyes are dark as he looks down at Jongin’s mouth. He licks his lips. “If you want to.”

“I’d like that.” Jongin moves away to unbuckle his seatbelt. “Thanks for tonight, for bringing me home.” 

“Don’t mention it, it was my pleasure.” Chanyeol flicks the lock on the passenger door open and he moves back into his seat. “Goodnight, Jongin.” 

Jongin hesitates with his fingers looped around the door handle. He leans across the centre console of the car to press his mouth to Chanyeol’s again. Emboldened by the soft sound Chanyeol makes beneath him, Jongin licks his way into his mouth, and it’s only with some real effort that he’s able to pull away with a bashful smile. 

“Goodnight.” 

Jongin feels dizzy as he clambers out of the car. He’s very aware of the security guard stationed by the entrance to the underground lot and Jongin’s cheeks flush when he sees the old man look over in his direction. He presses the button to call the lift down and Jongin licks his lips almost absently as he waits. They’re still tingling by the time the lift arrives and Chanyeol only begins to pull away when the doors close and steal Jongin from view. 

 

 

Jongin doesn’t see the door to the studio crack open, nor does he hear the soft patter of footsteps across the floor. They’re halfway through a shoot for a new range of nightwear and Jongin rolls across the bed he’s been lounging on for the past hour. The sheets wrinkle under his back as he stretches and Jongin knows without looking that the pyjama pants he’s wearing have slipped to rest almost indecently low over his hips. 

Sunyoung is perched on a small stepladder at the end of the bed and Jongin smiles lazily up at her. The fire of her shutter is rapid as Jongin lifts his arms and rests them behind his head. He luxuriates like that for a little longer, turning his body minutely when Sunyoung prompts him, until she lowers the camera from her face. 

“Okay, that’s great for the pyjamas,” she says, beaming down at him from atop the stepladder. “Let’s call it time for about half an hour and then we’ll start shooting on the underwear, okay?” 

An assistant hurries over to Jongin’s side with a robe and he takes it gratefully. The crew will want to rearrange the set for the next lot of photos before they start shooting again and Jongin hurries to get out of their way. That’s when he notices a flash of bright, blond hair from the corner of the room and he starts.

“Sehun?” Jongin hastily fastens the robe about his waist and hurries over to the rest area. Sehun smirks up at him from where he’s sprawled across the sofa. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to watch the master at work, why else?” He cackles. Jongin grabs hold of his legs and forcibly shoves them off the sofa so he can sit down. 

“You never come into work on your day off.” Jongin regards his friend suspiciously. “You know if Joonmyun catches you here he’ll find something for you to do.”

Sehun rolls his eyes. “I’d like to see Joonmyun try. Seriously, though, I’m actually here to see you.” Sehun throws his arm over the back of the sofa and tugs on the neck of Jongin’s robe. “Let’s go out for dinner.”

“I can’t, we’ve still got a bunch more shots to get through,” Jongin says. “But you know my schedule, you didn’t have to traipse all the way down here for me to tell you that.”

“Jongin, I can wait until you’re finished.” Jongin makes to speak but Sehun holds up a finger, presses it against Jongin’s plush bottom lip. His mouth obediently snaps shut. “No, I’m not taking no for an answer, Jongin. Think of this as an intervention, you’re turning into a hermit.”

“I am not a hermit,” Jongin hisses, indignant heat flaring up across the back of his neck. 

“I _miss_ you, Jongin.” Sehun’s face is uncharacteristically serious. “When was the last time we hung out outside of work, huh? You always blow me off whenever I ask you to come out, you only reply to half of my text messages and I know there’s something going on with you and that friend of Baekhyun’s, don’t look at me like that, Jongin. I know you’d rather just go home after work and ‘recharge your batteries’ or whatever it is you do when you’re alone in that silent little flat of yours, but is having dinner with your best friend really so much to ask?”

Jongin squirms guiltily. “I’m sorry.” Sehun was right, he had been blowing him off a lot recently, even more so than usual. “I’m sorry, I know I’m being a shit friend, I just-“

“Don’t apologise, just come out.” Sehun reaches out for the tie of Jongin’s robe and pulls on it playfully. “I’ll even pay.”

“Oh, well, if you’re paying then that changes everything.” Jongin slaps Sehun’s hands away but there’s a smile curling up at the corners of his mouth. 

“If I’d known money was all it took I would’ve bought your love much sooner.” 

The assistant from earlier approaches with a bundle of clothes in her hands and Jongin stands to take them from her. “Are they ready to carry on?” She nods and reaches up to fix Jongin’s hair, pushing a couple of wayward strands from his eyes before letting him go. “You’ll wait for me then?” Jongin says to Sehun. 

“Yeah, that way I know you can’t escape.” Sehun grins with teeth and puts his feet back up. “Anyway, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you on set. I might pick up some new tips.”

The second part of the shoot ends up wrapping up pretty quickly. Sunyoung sounds happy with what they’ve done as she packs her camera away and she waves Jongin off with a laugh when he hovers over her shoulder like an anxious hummingbird. 

“Go on, Jongin, please. Get out of here and take Sehun with you. It’s bad enough having to listen to the bullshit he thinks counts as advice normally, but when it’s not even him I’m shooting it makes me want to wring his skinny little neck.”

Sehun makes an affronted noise from where he’s still sprawled in the corner and Sunyoung blows him a kiss. “Have fun, Jongin. Thanks for all your hard work today.”

Jongin hurries off to change and then he and Sehun head out onto the streets of Gangnam. There’s a fine sheet of rain drizzling down from the sky so Sehun grabs hold of Jongin’s wrist and drags him into the nearest restaurant. They order easily enough but as soon as the waitress disappears with their menus Sehun steeples his long fingers before him and levels Jongin with a look that makes him shiver. 

“So, what’s the deal with you and this Chanyeol, then? I know I said I believed you the last time you blatantly lied and said there was nothing going on, but you’ve been weird these last couple of days.” Sehun pauses for a moment and then seems to reconsider. “Weirder than usual. I know there’s something you’re not telling me.” 

Jongin sighs heavily and twirls the straw of his drink between his fingers. It’s one of those fancy cardboard ones that are more style than substance and it crumples beneath the light press of Jongin’s thumb. 

“There’s no _deal_ , we’re just-“ Sehun’s eyes bore into his and Jongin fidgets in his seat. “We’ve been texting and we went out for dinner on Saturday.”

“Damn,” Sehun whistles. “You must really like him a lot if he managed to get you to go on a date with him, especially on a weekend. So, what’s he like?”

Jongin’s cheeks heat up and he’s granted a momentary reprieve when the waiter comes back with their food. Jongin uses the distraction to force himself to calm down. 

“He’s-“ Jongin starts. He trails off and pokes at his food as he thinks. “He’s loud,” Jongin settles on eventually. “He talks a lot and he uses way too many exclamation marks when he texts. When Baekhyun told me he’d arranged for a friend to meet us that first time I was ready to kill him with my bare hands and I honestly thought I was going to throw up all over myself on the way to meet him on Saturday, but he- he’s actually pretty easy to be around. He makes me feel comfortable.” 

Sehun hums thoughtfully and lifts a piece of pork to his mouth. “Is he hot?”

“Yes,” Jongin says without hesitation. “So hot.” He twists some spaghetti around his fork but doesn’t move to eat it. “I kissed him,” Jongin says, twirling his fork more quickly. “He drove me home after our date and I kissed him.” 

Sehun erupts with laughter. “Shit, I hope you used protection.” He tips forward across the table in his mirth and Jongin gets an eyeful of the way Sehun’s skinny chest heaves through the deep v-neck of his t-shirt. “Oh man, Baekhyun’s going to be thrilled. When I spoke to him the other week he told me he was hoping to set the two of you up.” Sehun must get a look at the expression on Jongin’s face because he finally calms down enough to ask, “Come on, Jongin, he sounds perfect for you. What’s the problem?”

“What about when he finds out what I do?” Jongin asks. His spaghetti dangles from the end of his fork and it suddenly looks incredibly unappetising. 

“Jongin you can’t let one bad experience with one asshole guy put you off dating forever.” Sehun sighs and reaches out to squeeze Jongin’s hand briefly. “Look, I get where you’re coming from and I understand why you’re worried and I _know_ that all of that just makes your anxiety worse, but listen-“ Jongin’s drumming his fingers against the table and Sehun holds his hand properly, this time, links their fingers until Jongin stills. “I know you don’t know Chanyeol well enough to say how he’s gonna take it yet, but hey, you trust Baekhyun, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” Jongin says immediately. “We’ve been friends since we were kids, I trust him with my life.”

“Then trust him with this, too.” Sehun smiles. “I know he can be a bit of a dick but he wouldn’t set you up with anyone he didn’t think was good enough for you.”

“I guess,” Jongin concedes. Sehun releases his hand and Jongin misses the warmth of it almost instantly. “But what if-“

“Jongin, listen. You need to stop worrying about something that might never even be an issue. You’ve only just met the guy. I know you don’t do hook-ups but there’s no need to make this any more serious than you’re ready for it to be. Date the guy, if you want. Send him a couple of dirty texts. Hell, go out for a few drinks and then go back to his for a good, long fuck.” Jongin chokes on his drink and Sehun’s grin is fiendish as he takes advantage of Jongin’s temporary incapacitation and ploughs on. “All I’m trying to say is don’t ruin what could be a really good thing for you by worrying about the past _and_ things that may or may not happen in the future, all at the same time. Just let yourself have some fun, Jongin. You’re way overdue some.”

Sehun lets it drop after that but his words weigh heavily on Jongin’s mind for the rest of the meal. True to his promise, Sehun does pay for their food, and they walk to the subway station together in the rain. 

They travel on the train together for one stop. Jongin blames the way his stomach churns when they pull into the station on the spaghetti he’d eaten.

“Think about what I said, alright?” Sehun says as he leaves the carriage. Jongin feels his brow crease as he watches Sehun’s retreating back until the crowd of commuters quickly swallows him up.

Jongin stares thoughtfully into space as the train pulls off and it’s only once they’ve thundered quite some distance away that Jongin plucks up the courage to pull his phone out of his pocket. 

_Are you busy tomorrow night? Want to go out for a drink?_

Despite the butterflies that roar to life in his stomach, Jongin can’t help laughing softly when his phone lights up less than a minute after he’s hit send.

_would you judge me and my total lack of a social life if i said im completely unbusy and definitely want to go for a drink? kkk i lead a sad life i know. do you have somewhere in mind?_

_No sadder than me. And yeah, I do, actually. There’s a nice place not for from my flat, if you don’t mind coming all the way up to Hapjeong. If not we can go somewhere else._

Jongin sends off a small prayer that Chanyeol won’t mind. The restaurant he’d picked had been nice, no doubt about it, but Jongin craves for somewhere a little quieter, this time. A little more private. 

_sure!! its no problem at all. you came all the way to sinsa for me, afterall :) beside itll be cool to see the kind of place that you like_

_Okay, great. I’ll come and meet you outside the station at around nine? Oh and you can just dress casually. I won’t even mind if you don’t brush your hair._

_you know i dont even normally let the guys im trying to impress see me for the slob i really am until at least the third date and already i can tell youll never let me live that down, will you?_

_No, never. See you tomorrow, Chanyeol._

_looking forward to it already :)_

 

 

Chanyeol _does_ brush his hair, incidentally. 

Jongin is waiting for him outside the station when he arrives. The weather in Seoul is finally starting to cross from the crispness of autumn into the icy chill of winter and Jongin has a thick scarf pulled over the bottom half of his face. The wool doesn’t hide the way his eyes light up when he sees Chanyeol emerge from the subway. 

“Hey,” Chanyeol says as he hurries over to Jongin. He’s bundled up in a black parka with a furry white trim around the hood and Jongin thinks he really looks the part of the cute university student. “You haven’t been waiting long, have you? You look half frozen.”

Before Jongin can even respond, Chanyeol has grabbed both of Jongin’s hands between his. Chanyeol’s palms are furnace hot as he rubs some life back into Jongin’s fingers. 

“Not too long,” Jongin answers. He longs to curl his fingers around Chanyeol’s but the warmth still lingers even as their hands fall apart. “Shall we go, then?”

“Sure.” Chanyeol beams down at him. He throws an arm over Jongin’s shoulders as they walk, his fingers curling gently into Jongin’s scarf. Jongin leans into the touch and he’s intensely glad that Chanyeol can’t see the embarrassed smile that crawls up onto his face. 

The restaurant that Jongin leads them to is a far cry from the swanky place they’d gone to on their first date. It’s a tiny, family run place and Jongin bows politely when the ahjussi owner greets them at the door and shows them to their table. There are a few other tables of customers, their chatter and laughter and the faint sounds of the television mounted up on the wall a pleasant background noise. But it’s a quiet weekday night and Jongin instantly feels more relaxed than he had done last week as he slides into the booth across from Chanyeol. 

Jongin orders them a beer each, to start with, and as the ahjussi goes to get them out of the fridge, Jongin sees the way Chanyeol’s smiling at him. 

“What?” he asks, peeling the scarf from around his neck and laying it across his lap. Chanyeol’s shed his coat and Jongin watches silently as he pushes the sleeves of his jumper up to his elbows. 

“Nothing,” Chanyeol replies, still smiling at Jongin even as the ahjussi returns with their beers. “So this is the kind of place you like to eat in, huh?” Chanyeol lifts his beer to his mouth and Jongin is rendered momentarily breathless as he watches Chanyeol’s lips part around the rim. 

“I know it’s not exactly upmarket,” Jongin starts, suddenly self-conscious. He digs his thumb into a groove in the wooden tabletop and avoids Chanyeol’s gaze. 

“I like it,” Chanyeol says. He puts his beer down with a soft _thunk_ and Jongin glances up. “It suits you.”

Chanyeol is looking at him strangely again. Jongin clears his throat deliberately before he speaks. “So, how was your day?”

“Oh, I teach undergraduate seminars on marine ecology on a Thursday, so it’s always crazy exhausting.” 

“You teach?” Jongin asks in confusion. “I thought you were studying?”

“Yeah, that takes up most of my time, but the school asks all of its PhD students to take on some teaching hours, as well.” Chanyeol pauses to take another swig of his beer. “They reckon it’s because most of us will end up going into academia anyway, so it’s good practice, but honestly I think they just like the free labour.”

“I didn’t go to university, but I always imagined professors to be really old and boring but you’re-“ Jongin lowers his head and fingers the label on his beer bottle, “well. You’re not.”

“Well, most of them are,” Chanyeol says. By the time Jongin finds the courage to look back up there’s a playful smile on his face and the effect of it has Jongin’s stomach flipping over on itself. “I just try to remember what it was like as an undergrad and do my best to be the kind of teacher I would have wanted, back then.”

The condensation from the side of the bottle has left a wet streak across Jongin’s palm and he reaches out for a napkin to wipe it away. Jongin’s very aware of the way Chanyeol watches him, those dark eyes shining as they follow the movement of Jongin’s fingers as he balls the tissue up. “So, did you always know you want to be a biologist?” 

Chanyeol drags his eyes away from Jongin’s fingers with what looks like some real effort. “No, when I was a kid I actually wanted to be a vet,” he says eventually. His smile slips so slightly that Jongin is almost sure he imagines it. “But fish are about the only animal that don’t bring me out in hives, so I was kind of forced to change paths.”

Jongin makes a sympathetic sound in the back of his throat and he waits until Chanyeol lifts his beer before he offers, “When I was younger I wanted to be a ballet dancer.” Jongin’s voice is soft and he’s tempted to lower his head again, but the way Chanyeol looks at him from across the table stays his gaze. “I always dreamt of joining the Seoul Ballet Theatre, but I broke my leg one summer when I went on holiday with my family. The doctor told me it wouldn’t ever recover enough to take the strain of dancing professionally so I had to give up.” 

Jongin doesn’t talk about it often, and though it was a long time ago and the devastation has long since settled into a very dull ache, it’s still not something that he likes to think about. He isn’t even really sure why he told Chanyeol, except that it’s like he’d told Sehun. Chanyeol feels familiar and comfortable, and Jongin finds himself wanting to offer Chanyeol little pieces of himself with the same freedom that Chanyeol grants them to him.

“That’s a shame,” Chanyeol says, sympathetic but entirely without pity. “I bet you would have looked hot in a pair of tights.”

Whatever response Jongin was expecting, that wasn’t it, and he laughs out loud. The sound seems to startle him and Jongin almost knocks the remnants of his beer over the table in his haste to clap a hand over his mouth. Chanyeol, on the other hand, looks delighted. 

“Hey, what’s with the hand?” He demands, even as he leans across the table to steady Jongin’s bottle where it’s careening dangerously. “You have a beautiful laugh, you shouldn’t cover it up like that.” 

Jongin lowers his hand but his cheeks are burning and the ghost of his laughter still haunts his eyes, even as his scowls at Chanyeol in lieu of an answer and calls for the waiter. 

Chanyeol seems to make it his personal mission to draw more laughter out of Jongin, after that, and the longer the evening draws on, the easier he seems to find it. Jongin tries to act unimpressed, but his cheeks and stomach are aching with mirth by the time he finally sets his chopsticks down by his empty plate. 

“I’m just saying,” Chanyeol says as he dips the last remnants of his jeon into some sauce and then shoves it into his mouth, “any stories that Baekhyun told you that made him seem like he was totally cool through the first two years at university are a lie. Trust me.”

“I’ll be sure to bring that up, next time I see him.” Jongin swirls the remaining dregs of his third, or was it his fourth, beer idly as he watches Chanyeol. “Should I tell him it was you that ruined the illusion, too?” There’s a little soy sauce lingering around the corner of his mouth and without even thinking Jongin leans across the table to wipe it away with his thumb.

Chanyeol looks momentarily stunned and he licks his lips as Jongin pulls away. Jongin is almost entranced by the pink flash of his tongue as it swipes across his mouth. He clears his throat and looks away as he wipes his hands clean. 

“Tell him whatever you want, I’m not afraid of Baekhyun,” Chanyeol recovers admirably and if Jongin didn’t know better he’d think there was something of a tremble in that deep voice. 

“You’re a braver man than me,” Jongin answers. He puts the dirty napkin down on his plate and picks his scarf up from where it’s still laid across his lap. “Shall we go? It’s getting late, I don’t want you to miss the last train.” 

Chanyeol necks the last of his beer and he stands with Jongin. They settle up with the ahjussi at the till by the door and Chanyeol reaches over Jongin’s shoulder to hold the door open for him as they leave. The cold is biting after the warmth of the restaurant but it helps to soothe some of the redness from Jongin’s cheeks so he only layers his scarf loosely about his neck. Chanyeol burrows down into the fur trim of his hood and it’s almost comical, the way he curls an arm around Jongin’s and stoops down to leech off his body heat as they walk. 

The streets are silent save the sound of their weaving footsteps against the pavement and the steady in and out of Chanyeol’s breath by his ear. Jongin makes to cross the road but Chanyeol tightens his grip around his arm and he hesitates. 

“Let me walk you home.” The tip of Chanyeol’s nose is red and Jongin can see the way he’s shivering beneath his parka, but the look in his eyes is earnest and, if Jongin’s completely honest with himself, he isn’t ready to say goodnight yet either. 

“Okay,” he says softly. Chanyeol beams and he loosens his hold around Jongin’s arm to link their fingers together. Jongin feels himself tense, briefly, but there’s nobody else about and he quickly relaxes. Chanyeol’s palm is warm and Jongin finds his fingers wandering, skating over the bony jut of his knuckles. 

Once they get to his apartment complex Jongin finds that he’s loath to let go. So he doesn’t. Instead he pulls Chanyeol around the side of the building and into a secluded little alcove, surrounded by shrubbery. It’s normally used by smokers but at this time of night there’s nobody around and Jongin doesn’t hesitate as he goes up on tiptoes to press a kiss to Chanyeol’s mouth. 

Chanyeol sighs into his mouth and Jongin can’t help the little sound that escapes him as Chanyeol kisses him back. His lips are a little chapped and his mouth tastes like beer, but Jongin is easily distracted when Chanyeol’s tongue slides into his mouth. 

Jongin has to pull away to breathe but he doesn’t give himself long enough to mourn the loss of Chanyeol’s mouth against his before he’s leaning back in again. He releases Chanyeol’s hand to curl his fingers into the front of Chanyeol’s coat and Jongin could almost forget himself like this, wrapped up in shadow like they are and with the steady thump of Chanyeol’s heart pounding against his chest. 

“I should probably,” Chanyeol breathes, still close enough that his lips catch Jongin’s as he speaks, “go, need to,” his fingers curl against Jongin’s hips beneath his coat, brushing against his jumper so that soft wool drags over his bare skin, “need to catch the train.”

Jongin hums in agreement, but it’s several minutes before he pulls away. “Okay,” Jongin’s voice feels thick and he licks his lips, clears his throat before he tries to speak again. “Okay. I think I can make it back to my place safely from here.” 

Chanyeol grins at him in the dark but he still stays until they’re at the front entrance to Jongin’s building, the bright light from the foyer spilling out onto the street. “Let me know when you’re home,” Jongin says as he moves away, one hand holding the door open. 

“I will,” Chanyeol says. His nose and ears are pink and Jongin likes to think it’s from more than just the cold, even as Chanyeol zips his coat up all the way to the hollow of his throat. “Goodnight, Jongin.” 

“Goodnight.” Jongin stands in the doorway as Chanyeol offers him a jaunty little wave and he waits, the warmth of indoors calling to him, until Chanyeol disappears out of sight before he heads inside.

 

 

Jongin is stripping out of his clothes when he hears his phone chime. He throws his jumper and pants into a pile on the armchair in the corner and just as Jongin is turning away he catches sight of his reflection in the mirror. 

It’s dark in his bedroom, but even in the low light Jongin can see how swollen his lips look, can see the stupid smile that’s still lingering about his face. Jongin has grown so used to feeling dour, over this past year or so, to letting his anxieties and worries overwhelm him, that the sight of such a carefree expression on his own face takes him almost by surprise. 

Maybe Sehun had been right, Jongin thinks, as he turns away from the mirror and pads over to the bed. Maybe he really did need to learn how to let go of the past and just have fun. 

Jongin flops down onto the bed and he luxuriates on top of the sheets for a moment before reaching out to grab his phone from the dresser. 

_im home. i had a really good time and i get the feeling that you dont laugh as much as you did tonight very often, if the way you kept trying to hide it is anything to go by, so thank you for granting me the privilege of seeing it. it really is the most beautiful smile ive ever seen._

Jongin’s whole body feels flush with warmth. He rolls onto his side and presses his face half into the pillow even now, even when he’s completely alone, to hide his embarrassed smile.

_That's not fair. You can’t say things like that to me or I’ll start thinking that you really are the perfect gentleman. But I had a lot of fun tonight, too, so thank you ^^_

Jongin fires the message off and he’ll definitely blame the beer, in the morning, for what he does next. It’s probably a little too dark for it, but Jongin holds his phone out and snaps a quick picture. It’s grainy and his hair has flopped down in a messy sprawl across his forehead, but the smile on his face is boyishly charming and Jongin sends the photo on its way before he can think better of it with only a quick _goodnight chanyeol :)_ tacked on the end. 

It’s a while before Chanyeol replies. Jongin leans over to flick the lamp off and he somehow manages to burrow under the duvet without actually lifting his body up off the bed. He’s nestled comfortably under a mountain of sheets when his phone finally lights up and Jongin reaches out for it sleepily. 

_im not fair? sending pictures of yourself looking like that is the very definition of not fair. wow. sweet dreams, jongin. mine will be._

Jongin doesn’t respond but he falls asleep with his fingers still curled loosely around his phone and more content than he can remember feeling in a long time. 

 

 

That rush of contentedness lasts for weeks. 

The two of them arrange to see each other as much as they can, and Jongin tries not to admit to himself the way he feels like he’s floating higher and higher with happiness with every passing day. 

Chanyeol is sweet and funny and so comfortable to be around. Jongin finds himself drawn to him like he’s a sunflower and Chanyeol the sun. They sit together in restaurants and cafes, Chanyeol’s long legs spread out beneath the table so that his feet rest between Jongin’s ankles. Chanyeol will cuddle into Jongin from behind and stuff his hands into Jongin’s pockets, complaining about the cold like he isn’t the one who always insists on walking Jongin home, even as the temperature in Seoul continues to plummet. 

Jongin finds himself happily acquainted with the feel of Chanyeol’s mouth against his and he takes it upon himself to taste it whenever he can; a quick peck goodbye in the stairwell of Jongin’s building, a long exploration of each other’s mouths in the front seat of Chanyeol’s car that leaves Jongin flushed and panting. 

But Jongin has long since learnt that the good things in his life have a funny way of slipping between his fingers. 

Chanyeol is so earnest and enthusiastic as he tells Jongin about his research, the excitement written plainly across his face. 

Jongin wishes he could be the same about his own job.

Instead the guilt coils uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach, but Jongin continues to keep his mouth shut. He might lose this happy, floating feeling rather sooner than he would like, but Jongin intends to keep hold of it for as long as he possibly can.

 

 

“Room for a little one?” 

Jongin looks up from his book and sees Soojung smiling down at him. He fumbles to mark his place and then shuffles along the sofa to make a space for her. 

“Do they need us on set already?” Jongin asks. He watches as an assistant carefully arranges a silk throw over a chaise lounge and then turns back to Soojung.

“Not yet,” she says, in that soft lilting voice of hers that always sets Jongin at ease. He’s always loved shooting with her for precisely that reason. “I just wanted to come over for a chat. We haven’t had many of those lately.”

There’s a dusting of shadow over Soojung’s lids and her eyes bore into Jongin, in her own uniquely unassuming way. Jongin swears she’s always been able to see right through him. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” Jongin looks down at his book. The right corner of the cover has gone dog-eared with wear and he flicks it absently. “I’ve been a bit busy.”

“So I’ve heard. Sehun tells me you’ve been seeing someone?”

Jongin feels his face colour. “Yeah, sort of.”

Soojung laughs, a delicate little sound that reminds Jongin of chiming bells. “You’re so cute, Jongin. You must like him a lot, if the way you’ve been smiling recently is anything to go by.”

“I do. I really do, I’m just worried.” Jongin sighs and puts his book on the table. “About all of this.”

“He doesn’t know who you are?” 

Jongin shakes his head. His hair falls across his forehead and he reaches up to push it back into place. “Sehun thinks I’m worrying unnecessarily. He reckons I need to relax and just have fun and I’m trying but no matter what I do, the same old worries always come back.” 

Soojung tosses her curls over her shoulder. With them out of the way Jongin can see a hint of purple lace and the soft swell of Soojung’s breasts peeking out from beneath her robe. “You know I don’t agree with him often, but I think Sehun might be right. Forget about all of this for a minute,” she gestures at the set behind them. “When you’re with him, how does he make you feel?”

“I get these butterflies,” Jongin says, “right in the pit of my stomach. But they’re the good kind, you know? He’ll say something to make me laugh or he’ll look at me like I’m something special and all of this just falls away.”

“Then focus on that.” Soojung lays a hand on his thigh. Her nails are painted periwinkle. “It’s about time you found someone who’ll treat you right.”

Just as Jongin opens his mouth to reply he sees one of the assistants heading towards them. Soojung must see too, because she squeezes Jongin’s thigh and then stands. 

“Thanks, Soojung,” Jongin says, before she can head towards set.

She smiles at him warmly. “I just want to see you happy,” Soojung says. She laces their fingers together and tugs Jongin into step next to her. “We all do.”

 

 

Chanyeol’s place is surprisingly nice. 

Jongin figures that all the stories Baekhyun used to tell him about dorm life, back when they were still teenagers and Baekhyun would come home during the holidays, still linger in the back of his mind somewhere. He’d half expected something like that, something small and messy and a little run down. So he’s pleasantly surprised when Chanyeol pushes the door open for him and Jongin is immediately met with a wall of warmth and the sweet, mouth-watering scent of home cooking. 

“Here, let me take your coat,” Chanyeol says from behind him and Jongin almost jumps. He slips out of his shoes and doesn’t bother to fight down the pleased smile that blossoms across his mouth when Chanyeol slips his coat from his shoulders and hangs it in the hallway. Chanyeol unwinds his scarf from around his neck and the tip of his nose is cold against Jongin’s nape when he leans down to press a kiss there.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Chanyeol says, hands on Jongin’s hips to guide him into the living room. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Beer, please, if you have any.” Jongin laments the loss of Chanyeol’s warm body behind him when he pulls away. Jongin watches Chanyeol disappear into the kitchen and then he turns his attention to exploring the living room. There’s a tall, wooden bookcase against one wall and Jongin runs his fingers over some of the titles curiously. They’re big, heavy textbooks mostly, but Jongin notes with a fond smile that the top two shelves are dedicated exclusively to comic books. 

There’s a stream of clattering sounds from the kitchen and Jongin glances over his shoulder, but when Chanyeol still doesn’t reappear Jongin moves on to the side table. It’s littered with photo frames and Jongin wishes he knew the story behind each snapshot. There’s one of Chanyeol on the beach in scuba gear, surrounded by other divers, that Jongin assumes was taken in Fiji. Another of Chanyeol and a woman that Jongin is sure must be his sister, from the identical eyes and matching smiles. There’s yet another that has Jongin laughing joyfully and reaching out to take hold of the frame for a closer look. 

It’s of Chanyeol and Baekhyun and it must have been taken during their time at university together, if the bubblegum pink shock of Baekhyun’s hair is anything to go by. Chanyeol’s hair is dyed similarly, though the deep, blood red is, in Jongin’s opinion at least, much more flattering. They have their arms around each other and Baekhyun must have had to go up on tiptoes to be able to rest his head on Chanyeol’s shoulder like that. They both look incredibly young. 

“Can you believe Baekhyun actually thought he looked cool like that?” Chanyeol’s voice sounds from behind him. Jongin startles and hurriedly puts the frame back in its place. When he turns, Chanyeol is regarding him with that funny look on his face that he seems to wear almost as regularly as clothes, these days. He holds a bottle out to Jongin, who takes it gratefully. 

“I remember when he came home that year for Chuseok,” Jongin recalls. “Most of the dye had washed out but his brother still laughed himself silly. He sulked about it for days.”

Chanyeol grins widely and Jongin takes a swig of his beer to wet his dry throat. “We looked like real morons, huh? Suddenly I’m glad that Baekhyun never introduced us earlier.”

"I dunno, I think you looked hot,” Jongin says, seized by a sudden boldness. He smiles up at Chanyeol from under his lashes. “But the respectable grad student look works pretty well for me too.”

Chanyeol looks almost stunned. He licks his lips and Jongin bites the swell of his own mouth. 

“That’s good to know.” Jongin swears that Chanyeol’s voice croaks and there’s a prickling of heat in the pit of Jongin’s stomach that he hasn’t felt for a long time. “I better go and check that the food isn’t burning, I’ll be right back.” 

Jongin watches Chanyeol retreat back into the kitchen and then he makes his way across the cosy little living room. There’s a window that stretches almost the full length of the wall and Jongin can see his own smiling face reflected back at him in the darkness. When he steps closer and looks down Jongin sees the lights of the high street twinkling below them; he watches streams of cars passing by like ants until the kitchen door opens again and Jongin catches himself almost drooling at the smell that follows.

“Is that Jjigae?” Jongin asks, moving away from the window as Chanyeol sets a steaming bowl of stew down on the coffee table. He offloads a pair of bowls and cutlery from the tray in his hands, too, and then sets it aside. 

“Yeah.” Chanyeol’s easy smile is back. Jongin accepts the cushion he offers and makes himself comfortable across from Chanyeol. “It’s so cold outside now I figured it was perfect.”

He ladles Jongin a healthy portion then passes it and some rice over. Their fingers brush and Jongin swears he feels a jolt of electricity spark up his arm. “Go on, dig in. Oh and I hope it’s not too spicy. It’s my mum’s recipe but she’s a bit of a maniac when it comes so heat so I tried to tone it down a little.”

“Oh my god,” Jongin moans, spoon still halfway into his mouth. Heat spreads pleasantly across his tongue and when Jongin bites down on a chunk of meat it’s so tender it almost melts. “This tastes amazing.”

“Yeah?” Chanyeol’s voice sounds at least an octave lower than usual and if Jongin weren’t so preoccupied with bringing another heaped spoonful of stew up to his mouth he would see how the tips of Chanyeol’s ears are flushed cherry red beneath the messy fall of his hair. 

“Yes, god if I could cook like this I don’t think I’d ever eat out again,” Jongin praises. When he finally looks up Jongin sees that Chanyeol still hasn’t touched his own food. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Yeah, it’s just- you even look good when you’re eating. It’s a little distracting.”

Jongin flushes prettily and shovels some rice into his mouth. 

They eat in companionable quiet after that. Chanyeol leaves to get them more beer and when he returns he stretches those long legs out under the table. He radiates warmth and Jongin isn’t sure at what point his hand drops to rest against Chanyeol’s shin, only that it does, fingers rubbing absent little circles there. 

When they finish eating, Jongin attempts to clear up their dishes, but Chanyeol bats him away with a smile. Instead they leave the remains strewn across the coffee table and retreat to the sofa. They start out flicking through channels on television, but the heat that had flickered to life in Jongin’s gut earlier is beginning to resurface. The sofa is big enough for both of them to fit quite comfortably and yet it isn’t long before they find themselves curled together like overlarge cats.

Chanyeol’s mouth is warm against his when he leans down to kiss him and Jongin feels his whole body shudder and curl inwards at the swipe of Chanyeol’s tongue over the bow of his lips. He shifts onto his back and Jongin can feel the colour flaring up in patches across his cheekbones. 

At some point Jongin curls his fingers into the front of Chanyeol’s t-shirt and it makes Chanyeol keen, a low and breathy sound that has Jongin pulling him down just that fraction harder, legs falling apart to accommodate the length of Chanyeol’s body pressed against his. 

Kissing Chanyeol has begun to become something of a familiar indulgence and Jongin loses himself in it with increasing ease, whining softly in the back of his own throat when Chanyeol sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. Lost as he is, though, Jongin still notices when Chanyeol’s hand skates up over the waistband of his jeans and under his jumper, soft wool catching around Chanyeol’s wrist and dragging up over his stomach. Chanyeol’s touch is gentle, almost reverent, but Jongin still tenses up and he reaches to stop Chanyeol’s hand before it goes any further.

“Wait.” It’s been a while since either of them has spoken and Jongin’s voice tumbles from his mouth in a croak. When Chanyeol pulls away Jongin can see the way his pupils are blown with arousal. “I’m not- I-“

Jongin tries to fight away the horrible wave of embarrassment that crashes over him as Chanyeol peers down at him, but his throat feels tight and it’s hard to swallow. His discomfort must be obvious, because Chanyeol pulls his hand away and Jongin braces himself for the disappointment that he’s sure he’s about to see written over Chanyeol’s face. He has seen derision before, but that won’t make it any easier to see again. 

What he gets, instead, is Chanyeol’s swollen lips curling into a smile as he straightens Jongin’s jumper back over his stomach and then tangles their fingers together. 

“You wanna slow down a little?” Chanyeol pulls away a little further, bracing his body weight on his other arm. His mouth looks impossibly red and soft and despite his reticence Jongin still finds himself distracted by it. 

“Just a little,” Jongin says eventually, regretfully. He still wants the touch of Chanyeol’s mouth against his, but the hand about his waist, his stomach, had brought forth some uncomfortable memories that Jongin still isn’t ready to deal with, just yet. “I’m sorry. I want to, it’s just- it’s been a while and I’m not- I can’t-“ 

“Hey, Jongin, breathe, it’s just me,” Chanyeol soothes, rubbing the pad of his thumb against Jongin’s knuckles. “You don’t have to apologise, or explain yourself. We can take things as slow as you like, I don’t mind. I was happy enough just making out with you.”

Jongin feels something unfurl inside him, something long seated, and he leans up to press a chaste kiss to Chanyeol’s lips. 

“You sure?” Jongin chews on his own mouth and he doesn’t miss the way Chanyeol’s eyes are drawn to it. Despite all of his reassurances, Jongin still half expects Chanyeol to pull away, to tell him he’s being stupid. It can’t be often that Chanyeol gets knocked back like this, gorgeous and funny and friendly like he is. Why would he hang around waiting for Jongin when he could easily find someone more willing, someone happy to spread their legs and let Chanyeol do whatever he wanted to them? 

“’Course I am.” Jongin snaps out of his musings when Chanyeol speaks. He leans down to press a kiss to his forehead but this time when he pulls away he stays close enough that Jongin could count those freckles that still linger over the bridge of his nose, if he wanted to. “I’m not a total jackass, Jongin. If you’re not ready I’m more than happy to wait until you are. God, I would _rather_.”

Jongin feels himself smiling and he tips his head back. “You’re right,” he says, “you’re not a total jackass.”

Chanyeol snorts but he dips his head down, catches Jongin’s mouth with his, and his palm comes up to rest against Jongin’s chest. True to his word Chanyeol keeps all of his touches above Jongin’s waist, but even without the touch of skin on skin Jongin can feel the pleasant warmth bleeding through his jumper, and the touch has his blood singing. 

They fall back into it easily enough and by the time they finally part, hours later, Jongin’s eyes are drooping and his heart feels so swollen with affection Jongin fears it might beat right out of his chest. 

Chanyeol calls him a taxi and he trails after Jongin like a puppy when he heads into the hallway to slip back into his shoes. 

“I had a great time tonight. Really great.” Chanyeol is watching him pull on his coat with that funny look on his face again so Jongin curls his fingers into the front of his t-shirt and draws him in close. He slides his tongue into Chanyeol’s parted mouth and he laughs when Chanyeol’s hands smooth over the lapels of his coat, doing up the buttons with deft fingers even as he groans in the back of his throat. 

It’s Chanyeol, in the end, that breaks away. His mouth stays parted, even as he reaches over Jongin’s shoulder to grab his scarf from its hook and wind it carefully around his neck. 

“Pleasure was all mine,” he says slowly, once Jongin’s scarf fits into a neat knot. “Your taxi is waiting.”

“Right.” Jongin doesn’t make to move, even when Chanyeol smiles fondly and leans down to press their foreheads together. His hair falls into Jongin’s eyes and he blinks, scrunching his nose. 

“So cute,” Chanyeol mumbles, almost absently, voice pitched so low Jongin could swear he feels his bones rattle. “Go on.” He presses his forehead against Jongin’s with just enough force that Jongin has to brace himself against it, but the movement feels intimate, as does the kiss Chanyeol drops to the crown on his head before he finally takes a step back. “Go on or I won’t be able to let you go.” 

Jongin leans up for one final kiss, Chanyeol’s mouth still warm and wet, and then he pulls himself away. “I’ll let you know when I get home.” 

There’s a car waiting for Jongin by the side of Chanyeol’s building and he bundles himself into the back gratefully, the late night chill already starting to bite at his exposed cheeks. He gives the taxi driver his address and then Jongin settles back into the seat, stares up at the sparse scattering of stars he can see in the sky and tries not to think too much about the way his entire body still feels like it’s on fire with the ghost of Chanyeol’s touch. 

 

 

Joonmyun tends not to call Jongin into his office unless it’s for something important. 

For most things, things that don’t require anything in the way of an immediate reply, he tends to just drop Jongin an email. But Joonmyun has been Jongin’s manager since he was twenty and he knows better than almost anyone that Jongin has a terrible habit of forgetting to reply to emails, or forgetting even to read them. So when Jongin gets a call from Joonmyun when he’s more than half way to work but less than half awake, telling him to come straight to his office when he arrives, Jongin knows something must be up. 

Sehun, Soojung, and Jinri are already waiting when Jongin arrives and they all look up when he enters. Joonmyun stands from behind his desk.

“Ah, Jongin, you’re here.” He gestures towards the sofa Sehun is sprawled across. “Take a seat and I’ll get started.”

Jongin slides into the gap and meets Sehun’s raised eyebrows with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“I’m sure you’re all wondering why I called you in to see me so early,” Joonmyun begins, wringing his hands together. Jongin watches him pace before he retreats back behind his desk. “I assure you it’s nothing bad, it’s actually quite- quite exciting, I think. A very good opportunity for the company and for all of you, if not a little more short notice than we would normally like-“

“Can you get to the point?” Sehun snaps. He doesn’t have any makeup on and the dark circles beneath his eyes stand out starkly against his pale skin. 

“Right, of course.” Joonmyun clears his throat and the smile on his face makes him look like he’s chewing glass. “You all know the work the company has been doing recently to increase our profile overseas. We’re in a very comfortable position in Korea, of course, and that is something we strive to maintain, but our true goal is for Meteor Shower to become a globally recognised brand.”

He pauses. Soojung sniffs. 

“So, in order for us to do that, we must, of course, partake in more activities abroad. The company has been offered a slot at a very prestigious runway show in Tokyo and the four of you have been selected, as arguably our most successful and recognisable faces, to go as representatives.”

Jongin straightens up in his seat. Joonmyun, for all of the corporate spiel he’s just unleashed on them, is right. But he still has that painful smile on his face and it’s that, more than anything, which stops Jongin’s excitement from rising too much. There has to be a catch. 

“So when is it?” Jinri demands. Joonmyun’s smile withers under the force of her gaze. 

“Christmas eve.” 

“Christmas eve?” Sehun repeats, incredulous. “That’s less than a week away, we’ll never be ready in time.” 

“I appreciate that this is very short notice-“ Jinri scoffs, “and doubtless you all had plans for Christmas. Soojung I know you planned to go back to California and you can trust that we’ll look into making sure you’re reimbursed when you get back. But I’m sure you can all appreciate the potential doors this could open for us. Japan is a huge market and if we’re all prepared to put in some hard work over the holidays I’m confident it will be rewarded.” 

There’s silence for what must be a solid minute. Joonmyun fidgets nervously, tugging on the bottom of his tie, before Sehun speaks.

“When do we leave?”

“Tomorrow night.” Joonmyun goes into one of his drawers and pulls out four envelopes. He steps out from behind his desk and distributes them out between the four of them. “Here are your flight tickets. There’s also a copy of your schedules and hotel reservations.” Joonmyun sighs and he looks so anxious that Jongin feels a sudden surge of sympathy for him. 

“Look, I know this isn’t ideal timing and I’m sorry for springing it on you like this. But this is really great opportunity, for _all_ of you, and I know you’ll all put your best efforts into it, won’t you?”

There’s a grumbled chorus of replies. Joonmyun must take that as some sort of encouragement because he claps his hands together with forced enthusiasm. Jongin jumps. 

“Good. That’s good. I know you all have things to be getting on with today, so I’ll let you go. Just make sure you’re all back here no later than seven tomorrow evening and we’ll head to the airport together. Now go on.” 

He makes a shooing motion with his hands and the four of them stand to leave. Jongin trails out of Joonmyun’s office last. Soojung and Jinri are gone, but Sehun is waiting for him, leaning against the opposite wall with the manila envelope clutched in his hand. 

“Typical, right?” He snorts, falling easily into step beside Jongin. “It wouldn’t be SooMan if all good news wasn't followed by tragic timing, would it? Still, it’s been too long since either of us has walked the runway and they’re always a laugh. Plus I might be able to pick up some hot Japanese models to spend Christmas with.”

“Pig.” Jongin snorts. “I don’t know why any girl would want to hook up with a scrawny bag of bones like you.”

Sehun squawks and drives the hard point of his elbow into Jongin’s ribs. 

“Ow, _hey_ , you’re doing nothing but prove my point here.” Jongin laughs, slapping at Sehun with his envelope. 

“I’ll have you know that I’m a fine specimen of a man and if you’re too blind to appreciate that, then that’s your loss, dude.” Sehun teases, digging Jongin in the side again. He pulls away when they reach the end of the corridor. “I’ve gotta meet Amber for a fitting, so I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, later.” Jongin waves his friend away and heads off to his own appointment. He tucks the envelope into his back pocket out of the way, but it isn’t something Jongin can easily forget about and it weighs there heavily for the rest of the day as a constant reminder. 

 

 

Jongin doesn’t even bother taking his coat off when he gets home. He pauses in the hallway to shuck his shoes off and then stumbles through the flat like a zombie, shuffling down the hallway until he reaches the living room, where he face plants onto the sofa. 

It’s late, late enough that the sun has long since set and Jongin’s apartment is soaked in darkness. He could flick a lamp on, but that would require sitting up, and Jongin is far too comfortable where he is, even with his feet dangling over the arm and the collar of his coat pressing into his neck. 

He must lie there for at least half an hour, body sinking into the soft sofa cushions as he teeters on the edge of wakefulness. Eventually his stomach begins to grumble and Jongin goes to push himself upright, to head into the kitchen for something quick and easy to sate his hunger. As he stands, something falls from his pocket and Jongin bends to pick it up with a tired sigh. 

Jongin had spent most of his lunch break pouring over the details of their impromptu Japan trip with Soojung, but now that he’s away from the chaos of work and back in the safety of his own place, the weight of the envelope between his fingers reminds Jongin that he still needs to speak to Chanyeol.

Jongin tosses the envelope onto the coffee table for now and he digs his phone out of his pocket. He finally shucks off his coat, draping it over the back of the sofa, and draws up his chat log with Chanyeol as he heads to the kitchen. 

_Hey, are you free first thing tomorrow morning? Could we go and get a drink somewhere? I have something I need to talk to you about._

Jongin leaves his phone on the countertop while he rummages around in the fridge for some leftovers to reheat. 

_im sorry, i have a meeting with my supervisor at 9 and then i have classes all day. i can meet you after though if you want. is everything okay? i dont need to be worried right?_

Jongin sighs and leans heavily against the refrigerator door. The light spills out onto the grey kitchen tiles and washes them white. 

_No, you don’t need to worry. I’m a bit bound by time, though, and I didn’t really want to do this over text._

There’s a tupperware box of leftover vegetables squirreled away behind a half empty carton of eggs and Jongin pulls it out gratefully. He heats up a pan of oil and he’s just setting up the rice cooker when Chanyeol’s reply comes through. 

_okay forgive me for still being a bit concerned by that. are you sure youre okay? i can skype call you if you want. would that be better?_

_Yes, please._

Jongin tips his vegetables out and they sizzle and hiss when they hit the bottom of the pan. The Skype icon flashes up on his phone and Jongin turns his back on the hob, propping his phone up against the side of the rice cooker before swiping to accept the call. 

Despite the worry crawling in his stomach, Jongin finds himself smiling almost as soon as he sees Chanyeol’s face. He must have been in the middle of studying when Jongin messaged him, because there is a pair of thick, black glasses perched on his nose and Jongin can see a pile of papers stacked haphazardly in the corner of the frame. 

“Nice glasses,” Jongin says, in lieu of a greeting. Chanyeol grins. 

“Do they make me look more intellectual?” Chanyeol asks. “Hey, it’s so dark I can barely see you. Are you hiding on purpose? Is that what this is about? Have you come down with a horrible case of boils?”

“Sorry, hang on.” Jongin leaves his phone for a moment and goes to flick a light on. The kitchen floods with golden light and when Jongin comes back into shot Chanyeol smiles. 

“There you are. Boil free and gorgeous as ever.” Chanyeol scratches his shoulder absently and Jongin tries not to be distracted by the way the tank top he’s wearing bares his arms. “So what’s up?”

“Well,” Jongin starts. He can hear the pan of vegetables sizzling behind him and he goes to poke at them. When he turns back to his phone Chanyeol is still waiting patiently, peering up at him. “I’m being sent to Tokyo.” Jongin blurts out. He sees Chanyeol blink behind his glasses.

“You’re- what?”

“For work. I’m being sent to Tokyo for work.” Jongin shifts his weight about, bare feet sliding on the tiled floor. “They only told me this morning and I wanted to see you before I went, tell you face to face, but I’m flying out tomorrow night and they’ve barely given me any time to pack, let alone-“

“Hey, Jongin, breathe.” Chanyeol’s voice is gentle through the phone and Jongin stills. “How long will you be gone for?”

“Until the day after Christmas.”

“Oh, wow, that’s pretty long.” Jongin isn’t sure if Chanyeol actually looks crestfallen or if he’s just reading too much into the miniscule downturn of Chanyeol’s lips. 

“I know.” Jongin drums his knuckles against the countertop. “I’d rather not go. I’d rather stay here and spend Christmas with you, but I don’t exactly have a choice.” 

“Oh yeah? So that’s how it’s gonna be now, huh? Now that you’ve tasted my cooking I’ll never be able to get rid of you?” 

Jongin laughs softly, the corners of his mouth curving upwards. “Yeah, something like that.” He knows his own cooking is probably burnt through his inattention and he reaches over to flick the heat off, all without taking his eyes off Chanyeol. 

“That’s alright, I’m happy to play chef for you any time.” Chanyeol’s smile is easy and it sends heat rushing through Jongin’s gut. “I’d rather spend Christmas with you, too. But you’ll be back for New Year, and hey, Tokyo is pretty cool. Any idea what you’re going to be doing over there?”

“I won’t bore you with the details,” Jongin says. He waves a hand and tries to quash the familiar surge of guilt that rises up within him as he continues to lie to Chanyeol about his work. 

Chanyeol snorts. “I’m sure your job is at least one hundred times less boring than you think it is. Hey, listen, you look exhausted and I have a tonne more work to do before my meeting tomorrow so I’m gonna let you go.” Chanyeol shifts in his seat. Jongin sees the way the pimples across his cheeks are illuminated in the glow of his laptop and he wants desperately to kiss him. “Have something to eat and then get some rest, okay? We’ll talk before you leave tomorrow, but be safe and have fun and keep in touch when you can.” 

“I will.” Jongin smiles fondly and leans in closer. “Good luck with your meeting. Don’t stay up too late.”

“Yes dear,” Chanyeol trills obediently. “Goodnight Jonginnie. Sleep well.”

Jongin waves Chanyeol goodnight and when he hangs up the kitchen suddenly seems much emptier for the lack of Chanyeol’s presence within it. Jongin picks up his phone and flicks through to his music player for some noise to fill the sudden, cloying silence, and then he turns to see what can be salvaged of his dinner. 

 

 

It’s snowing by the time they reach the airport. 

Sehun complains about the temperature all the way from the car to the departures building and Jongin is half tempted to take off his scarf and smother his friend with it, even if that would mean exposing himself to the elements. He settles instead for shaking the snow out of his hair all over the back of Sehun’s neck as soon as they get inside. 

There’s a small crowd of fans waiting for them inside the terminal. Jongin has no idea how they got a hold of their schedule, especially when they themselves have known about this trip for less than forty eight hours. A couple of girls approach them and Sehun’s face brightens considerably, the melting snow on the back of his neck forgotten. He’s always enjoyed this side of the job much more than Jongin.

Once she has Sehun’s autograph, one of the girls turns her attention to Jongin. He dips his head bashfully as he signs the magazine she holds out for him, keeps his face half buried in his scarf, and Jongin is immensely grateful when Joonmyun politely whisks the four of them off to check in. 

One particularly voracious fan follows them to the security gate, trying to snap pictures of Soojung and Jinri on his phone, but once they pass through security the fans disperse and Jongin feels his heartbeat return to normal once more. 

They have a little time to kill before their flight is due to leave. Jinri wanders off in search of food and Joonmyun trails after her dutifully, but not without a quick warning to the rest of them to stay where they are. He looks at Sehun as he says it. Sehun rolls his eyes and slides even further down in his seat until Joonmyun sighs and leaves. 

Jongin is close to nodding off on the uncomfortable metal bench when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He digs it out and flicks through to his messages. 

_have a safe flight and enjoy tokyo. ill see you when you get back so ill try not to miss you too much but its gonna be tricky so keep in touch okay?_

The message on its own is enough, but it’s the accompanying picture that has Jongin pushing himself upright. 

Chanyeol’s in bed, the sheets pulled just low enough that Jongin can see the tanned, bare skin of his chest peeking out. He’s covered his mouth with a peace sign but Jongin can tell that he’s smiling from the crow’s feet that crinkle at the corners of his eyes. Chanyeol’s hair is a mess and there are bags under his eyes but to Jongin he looks good enough to eat and he has to quash that tide of arousal that keeps churning in the pit of his stomach with more and more frequency, lately. 

“Shit, is that Chanyeol?” Sehun whistles from beside his ear. Jongin startles badly enough that he drops his phone into his lap and he scrambles to catch it before Sehun can. “Damn you weren’t lying, he is hot. Not too sure about the bed head, though.”

“Oh my god,” Jongin moans. He manages to grab his phone and lock it, the photo of Chanyeol disappearing from view. Sehun makes a disapproving sound. 

“You must have taken my advice, then, if he’s sending you pictures of himself in bed,” Sehun says. Soojung glances over the top of her magazine from where she’s sitting across from them and Jongin feels his face flaming. Sehun leans his full bodyweight against Jongin’s side. “So is it just the dirty texts that you’ve been sending or did you manage to get around to the fucking we talked about, too?”

“Sehun,” Jongin hisses. The heat spreads from Jongin’s cheeks to the back of his neck and he has to resist the urge to hide his face. Instead he stares down at his lap, where his phone is resting once more, and tugs the sleeves of his jumper down so that they cover his hands. “We haven’t been sending dirty texts and I haven’t-“ Jongin pauses. “We haven’t slept together yet, either.”

“Why the hell not? He’s clearly into you.” Sehun makes a face and reaches out for one of Jongin’s hands. Jongin pulls it away. “We talked about this, didn’t we? You need to get over-“

“I wasn’t ready.” Jongin’s voice comes out a little sharper than he intends it to. Sehun moves his hand away but the weight of his body stays pressed against Jongin’s side. “We were fooling around and he wanted to take it further, but I told him I wasn’t ready,” Jongin says. “He said he was happy to wait.” Jongin’s fingers itch to pick up his phone, to talk to Chanyeol, to see him. 

“I just think-“ Sehun begins.

“Drop it, Sehun.” Soojung says, suddenly, throwing her magazine down into her lap. The pair of them look up at her. “Jongin’s a big boy, he knows what he’s doing. Just let him take things at a pace he’s comfortable with, god. Not everyone needs to jump straight into bed with the person they’re seeing.” She looks over at Jongin and the scowl she’d been levelling at Sehun melts away into a smile. “I think it’s sweet, that you’re taking your time. Chanyeol clearly isn’t bothered by it, either. He sounds like he could be really good for you.” 

Sehun snaps back something that Jongin doesn’t hear over the blood rushing in his ears. Soojung’s words stoke the fire of arousal that hadn’t quite gone out even when Sehun had begun teasing him and he picks up his phone. The two of them are still bickering between themselves and Jongin quickly fires off a reply.

_I think I might miss you even more. Speak to you soon. Sleep well._

Joonmyun and Jinri reappear and as if on cue the announcement comes overhead for their flight to start boarding. Jongin stuffs his phone into his pocket and stands. Soojung and Sehun continue bickering all the way down the jet bridge and onto the plane and Jongin is immensely relieved when he reaches his seat and they get split up. Jongin lets Sehun take the window seat and they’re quiet as they both get themselves settled. 

Jongin watches silently as the plane fills up, businessmen and women in pressed suits and sleepy tourists with huge backpacks trudging down the aisle and into their seats. 

“I’m just trying to look out for you, you know that, right?” Sehun says suddenly, from beside him. Jongin turns to look at him. “I’m not trying to pressure you into doing anything, I just don’t want you to have any regrets.” 

Jongin smiles and he sees Sehun’s shoulders slump visibly with relief. 

“I know, don’t worry.” Jongin pats Sehun on the thigh. “It’s not your fault you only know how to look out for me in a way that makes you sound like a bit of an asshole.”

Sehun snorts but he curls his fingers around Jongin’s and gives his hand a squeeze. “Are you happy with the way things are going? Is he treating you right?” 

“Yes,” Jongin says, decisively, answering both of Sehun’s questions at once. “I really like him a lot.”

“Then that’s enough for me,” Sehun says. He doesn’t speak this sincerely very often and it might be that rareness that makes Jongin appreciate it all the more. “You deserve the best and if taking it slowly is what makes you happy then that’s what you should do.” 

Jongin beams and leans over to knock their shoulders together. 

“Besides, I wasn’t lying before.” Sehun’s grin is wolfish. “Chanyeol really _is_ hot. I totally would, if I swung that way.”

Jongin howls and pulls his hand away from Sehun’s grip. Sehun laughs, loud enough that the couple sat behind them hush him angrily. The grin Jongin aims at him is smug as he sinks down into his seat. 

Once the plane is finally full the cabin crew come out and start to do their safety demonstration. Jongin rests his head against Sehun’s bony shoulder and, despite his best efforts, he falls asleep as the plane begins to taxi down the runway. He doesn’t wake until hours later, Sehun shaking him into consciousness. 

“What?” Jongin blinks, groggy. His neck aches when he tries to sit up. 

“We’re here,” Sehun mumbles. When Jongin looks up he sees how tired and red Sehun’s eyes look and he pushes himself up guiltily. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you,” Jongin starts but Sehun hushes him. 

“Like it’s the first time. Come on, get up.” 

Sehun and Jongin gather up their bags and join the queue of people snaking up the aisle. They meet up with Joonmyun and the girls and the rest of the staff once they’re off the plane. Joonmyun herds them all through the quiet airport, checking behind him like a mother duck every few moments to make sure he hasn’t lost anyone. If Jongin weren’t still half asleep he’d find it amusing. 

There’s a van already waiting for them outside the arrivals building. The air isn’t as cold here as it had been when they left Korea and Jongin misses it already, misses the biting wind and the chill of snowflakes on his skin. 

Jongin dozes again in the van, though fortunately for Sehun he ends up slumped against the window rather than on Sehun’s shoulder, this time. Despite the sleep, he feels distinctly unrested by the time they reach the hotel and he aches for a bed to lie in, to soothe the pain that’s still shooting up his back and neck from sleeping sat upright. 

SooMan must have spared no expense on the hotel, to their credit, and Jongin is sure he’ll appreciate it all much more in the morning. But for now he takes the key card that Joonmyun hands to him once he’s finished checking them all in gratefully and heads up to his room. 

Sehun is just next-door and he bids his friend a good night, Sehun grunting tiredly in response, and disappears into his room. An incredibly inviting king size bed takes up most of it, and Jongin eyes it wearily as he slips out of his shoes. He leaves his suitcase in the hallway and pads into the room, the carpet blissfully soft against his bare feet. 

There’s a huge window stretched across the far side of the room and despite his tired body Jongin goes over to take a look. The lights of the city twinkle below but most of the skyline is taken up with the dominating, looming form of Tokyo Tower, extending bright and red into the dark night sky. 

Jongin pulls his phone out to take a quick snapshot. It’s shaky and unfocused and does the beauty of the view no justice, but Jongin sends it off to Chanyeol anyway, tacks a sleepy emoji on the end for good measure. 

It’s three thirty in the morning and Jongin knows Chanyeol must be fast asleep, so he sets an alarm for the following day and leaves his phone to one side. Jongin strips out of his clothes and leaves them where they fall, too tired to bother putting them away. 

He collapses face fist into the bedspread and for a moment it feels like heaven, but as Jongin rolls over onto his back and sprawls out the expanse of the bed feels entirely too massive for his lone body. For the first time in a long while, Jongin falls asleep wishing for the warmth of another in the bed beside him. 

 

 

Despite his promise to speak to Chanyeol as much as he can, Jongin is kept so busy with preparations for the upcoming show that he barely even finds the time to sleep. 

They spend most of the first day in fittings with wardrobe. Amber pokes and prods at each of them in turn, her work becoming increasingly frantic as she tries to decide what pieces she thinks will fit in with the theme of the show best. After lunch they spend a few hours with Song Qian as she tries out different styles of make up on them. Jongin nods off in the chair more than once and startles awake when Song Qian thwacks him with her powder brush. 

Time seems to slide through all of their fingers like sand and four days suddenly seems like an impossibly short space of time in which to pull this all off. 

Joonmyun hovers around them at all times. He constantly rattles off reminders of how important this is, how the company is relying on them, how they need to put their best feet forward. It starts to fray on even Jongin’s temper a little, by the third day, when they’re all running on a few hours sleep a night, but it’s Jinri who snaps first. 

“We _get_ it,” she snarls at Joonmyun. Even dressed in nothing but a red balconette bra and matching lace panties, Jinri is ferocious and Joonmyun wilts like a dying flower under the force of her glare. “Do you really think we can’t grasp what a big deal this is, Joonmyun? Do you really think we need you banging on and on about it?” She stomps down from the pedestal she’d been standing on whilst Amber made some last minute adjustments and pushes past Joonmyun to grab a robe. “I need to take a break.” 

Jinri strides from the room in a whirl of black silk, her hair streaming out behind her like ribbons. Joonmyun glances around at them all and then hurries after her helplessly. 

They carry on like that for another two days. Rehearsals take up most of the remaining time and when Sehun had said it had been a long time since they’d done a catwalk he really hadn’t been joking. Jongin is much more accustomed to posing in front of a camera and it feels like it’s an effort just remembering how to put one foot in front of the other. But each time he gets to the end of the runway and pauses, Joonmyun shoots him a relieved smile and a thumbs up, so Jongin figures he must be doing something right. 

Jongin barely sees anything of Tokyo beyond the view from his hotel room window at night. But it’s from there mostly that Jongin speaks to Chanyeol, in the stolen half hours before he sleeps. He messages Chanyeol to ask how he’s doing, is it still snowing, I miss you. At first, Chanyeol replies as normal, and his enthusiastic responses give Jongin the little energy boosts that he needs to get through the day. But the night before the show, Jongin messages Chanyeol from his too large bed and the reply doesn’t come. 

Jongin tries his best to shrug it off. Chanyeol wasn’t _obliged_ to reply to Jongin at light speed whenever he called, it’s just that over the past few months Jongin has kind of gotten used to it and now this feels a little too much like a cold shoulder for comfort. 

Chalking it up to being grumpy from lack of sleep and the seven hundred mile distance between them, Jongin rolls off the bed and heads for a shower to soothe his aching body. 

There’s still no reply when Jongin returns twenty minutes later. He sighs and flicks through Kakao Talk. He could chat with Baekhyun or his sisters or even his mother, who he knows always worries about him when he goes overseas for work. But as Jongin hovers his thumb over each name in turn, he feels the swooping disappointment in his stomach that it isn’t Chanyeol. 

Instead Jongin leaves his phone on the side table and curls up under the sheets. The bed feels emptier than ever and sleep, when it eventually comes, is fitful.

 

 

When he’s woken by his alarm the following morning, Jongin throws an arm out blearily to silence the shrill call. It’s so early that it's still dark outside and Jongin feels like he hasn’t even slept at all as he pushes himself up in a sitting position. His sleep shirt slides down over one shoulder and Jongin is too tired to even bother readjusting it. 

It takes another ten minutes before Jongin musters up the energy to move. He has both legs swung over the side of the bed, bare feet skimming the carpet, and Jongin is just about to push himself up when he sees the message notification light blinking on his phone.

Jongin’s eyes light up and he stretches over for his phone. He opens the waiting message eagerly, but it’s shorter than he’s come to expect from Chanyeol, and completely lacking in his normal enthusiasm. 

_sorry im at my parents place. happy christmas eve._

Jongin stares at the phone for a moment in confusion. Had he done something wrong? Had he said something to upset Chanyeol, last night, and not even realised it? Jongin scrolls quickly through their last few messages but up until now Chanyeol sounds exactly the same as usual. 

_Oh, that’s cool. Are you staying there for Christmas? Is everything okay? You must be tired with studying but I bet it’s nice to spend some time with your parents, right?_

Jongin hesitates before pressing send and it must be the first time since those awkward initial messages he and Chanyeol had exchanged that Jongin has felt so unsure speaking to him. No reply comes but Jongin doesn’t honestly expect it. It _is_ still heinously early, after all. Chanyeol is probably still sleeping. 

Jongin drags himself up out of bed and goes to get dressed. No matter how much something about the situation with Chanyeol sits uncomfortably in his gut, Jongin would just have to push that aside for now. He can only deal with so much anxiety at a time and Jongin knows that in a few hours the thought of going out on that catwalk will have turned him into a nervous wreck. 

Finding out what he’d done to upset Chanyeol would just have to wait. 

 

 

The show is a success. 

At least, that’s what Jongin assumes from the painfully bright grin that’s splitting Joonmyun’s face in half when he bursts into their dressing room after the show. 

“That was fantastic,” he blurts out, hopping from one foot to the other in his excitement. “You were all fantastic. I’ve already been approached by representatives from two major department stores here in Tokyo who might be interested in stocking some of our line.”

“That’s great news, hyung,” Jongin says. He pauses in scrubbing his make up off when he sees Joonmyun heading towards him and Jongin can’t help but laugh when Joonmyun goes up on tiptoes and presses a kiss to his forehead. 

“You were magnificent, Jongin.” Joonmyun releases him and Jongin ducks his head. “The editor of Men’s Non-no was in the audience and he sounded very interested in running an article on Meteor Shower. He even asked after you specifically.” 

“Wow, that’s- that’s, um. _Wow_.” Joonmyun is still beaming up at him like a proud parent. Jongin’s legs feel like jelly and he sinks down onto the stool in front of the vanity before they give out on him. 

“Yeah, yeah, Jongin’s marvellous, tell us something we don’t already know.” Sehun’s voice is teasing but he drops a hand to the back of Jongin’s neck as he comes over and he squeezes gently. “What about the rest of us, huh? Do we not get a kiss each, too?”

Before Sehun can move to try and escape, Joonmyun reaches out to grab his cheeks. Sehun is even taller than Jongin and Joonmyun has to pull him down into a stoop to kiss his forehead. Sehun jerks away, spluttering, but Jongin sees the pleased smile on his face. 

“There you go, Sehun,” Joonmyun says as he pulls away. “I just wanted to thank you all for your hard work.” He looks at each of them in turn. “I know it’s been a bit insane and you’re all tired and I haven’t been the calmest, these last few days.” Jinri snorts and Joonmyun’s smile looks resigned. “But you’ve all done yourselves proud and you can be sure that the part you played in setting Meteor Shower up as a player on the international stage won’t be forgotten.” 

Sehun sniffs and pretends to wipe a tear away from his eye. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to us, Joonmyun hyung.” 

“Well, even you deserve it today, Sehunah,” Joonmyun teases. “You all have the day off tomorrow, so feel free to enjoy it however you choose. I just ask that you keep yourselves out of trouble and remember that our flight home is at ten am the next day, so please get plenty of sleep and don’t be late.”

Jongin is still sitting, stunned, when Joonmyun turns to leave, and he jumps when Sehun rests a hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey, congratulations dude. Men’s Non-no, that’s a pretty big deal.” 

“I know, I- I still don’t think I can believe it,” Jongin lifts the cotton pad he was using earlier and wipes the rest of the make up from his face. His hands are shaking. 

“Listen, we’re gonna hit the hotel bar tonight for a little celebration. You’ll come, right?” Sehun asks. He pulls his hand away from Jongin’s shoulder. “I promise it won’t get too messy and I won’t try and guilt you into staying for ages, if you don’t want to.”

Jongin thinks about the alternative, about sitting up in his huge suite by himself, waiting for a reply from Chanyeol that he’s becoming increasingly sure isn’t going to come. He nods. “Yeah, yeah sure I’ll come.”

“Brilliant.” Sehun’s beaming and that, at least, banishes the heaviness that was threatening to settle over him. For now, anyway. “I’ll go and get dressed and then I’ll track Joonmyun down and get him to call us a car.”

 

 

By the time they get back to the hotel, most of the adrenaline from the successful show has faded from Jongin system. Chanyeol still hasn’t replied and Jongin is finding it increasingly difficult not to let his brain run riot with possible reasons. He heads straight to the bar and orders himself a drink. 

A bunch of the staff had come back with them and Jongin finds himself dragged into a booth that they’ve all co-opted. He ends up wedged between Soojung and Sehun and normally that would be fine, but right now the crowd of people feels a little cloying. He’d agreed to come because he didn’t want to be alone, but solitude is beginning to sound more and more tempting. 

“Are you alright, Jongin?” Soojung asks him, eventually. Jongin must have been staring miserably into his drink more obviously than he’d thought. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m just-“ he sighs and shakes his head. “It’s nothing, it’s fine.”

“Hey, come on, you can tell me.” Soojung’s voice is gentle and she has to lean in close to him to be heard over everyone else. Her hair tickles his arm where it falls over her shoulder.

“Chanyeol isn’t replying to any of my messages,” Jongin says and he wants to kick himself. It sounds so pathetic when he says it out loud, childish. He takes a long swig of his drink. 

“It’s Christmas eve, Jongin, he’s probably just not had time to check his phone.” Soojung sounds so sure and it’s so reasonable, but still Jongin feels sick with doubt. 

“I know, but it just- something feels off. I feel like he’s off with me and I don’t know what I’ve done wrong.” 

Soojung takes hold of his hand and Jongin sighs. “Have you asked him?” Jongin shakes his head. “You have the whole day to yourself tomorrow, why don’t you try calling him? And even if you don’t hear anything tomorrow we go home the day after, I’m sure once you see each other properly it’ll be completely different.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Jongin downs the rest of his drink and moves to stand. “Listen I think I’m gonna go and get an early night.” Soojung lets go of his hand and shifts so he can get out of the booth. 

“Try not to worry yourself sick, Jongin,” she says gently as she leans in to kiss him goodnight. Her lipstick leaves a sticky print on his cheek. “It’s probably nothing.” 

“I know, I’ll try.” Jongin smiles but he knows it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Goodnight, Soojung.” 

The hotel corridors are almost silent as Jongin trudges up to his room. He isn’t sure whether he’s glad for it or not, isn’t sure whether the ghostly quiet or the raucous celebrations downstairs are worse. 

Either way, Jongin slips his key card into the door and his room is dark when he steps in. Jongin doesn’t bother to flick on a light. It’s been long enough that he’s able to pick his way across the room with ease, now. 

Jongin throws himself down onto the bed and immediately digs his phone out of his pocket. He hates the way he’s letting this get to him, hates the way he can’t think of anything else but why Chanyeol isn’t replying to him, but it’s had Jongin’s stomach turning with anxiety all day and now that the show is out of the way, at least Jongin can concentrate on trying to figure this out. 

There’s still no reply so Jongin opens up a new window and types his own message. 

_Are you okay? I haven’t heard from you all day and I just wanted to make sure everything was alright. You’re probably just having fun with your family and I’m worrying over nothing._

Jongin toys with his phone anxiously before he lets the message go. He sets it aside, not expecting a reply, and stands to go and shower. Just as he’s about to rise from his bed, though, his phone lights up, and Jongin almost dives on it in his eagerness. 

_sorry, im sorry, been super busy. im okay. how are you?_

Jongin still doesn’t know what to make of that and the fact that Chanyeol hasn’t told him not to worry does nothing to settle his nerves. 

_I’m a little tired but I’m okay. I’m looking forward to coming home. Are you free to meet when I get back? You could come round to mine, if you’re not too busy. I miss you._

There’s a slightly longer pause after this message but his phone lights up again and Jongin breathes a tiny sigh of relief. Chanyeol might not sound like himself but Jongin would still take this strange, stilted version of Chanyeol over one who offers no response at all. 

_ill be there. is around 7 okay?_

Jongin tries not to be too hurt that Chanyeol doesn’t return the sentiment, he really does, but his hands are still shaking when he goes to reply. Chanyeol is quicker, though, and there’s another message coming through before Jongin has even written a word. 

_im sorry ive gotta go, but i promise ill be there. goodnight jongin. and i miss you too._

He knows this is far from resolved and it still has his head spinning, but Jongin sleeps better that night than he has for days. 

 

 

Jongin spends Christmas day alone. 

He rises after the sun has already come up and it’s a nice change, after the past five or so days. As beautiful as it is, the sunrise is something that Jongin can easily learn to live without. 

He’s tempted to message Sehun, but judging from the stream of messages on his phone from around three am asking where he was, Jongin is willing to bet that Sehun, when he finally rouses himself from bed, will be nursing a hangover from hell. Jongin also doesn’t want to run the risk of running into any girls Sehun might have brought back with him last night. 

Instead he spends the morning in bed. The quiet is nice after the last week and Jongin takes advantage of it, climbing out of the cocoon of blankets he’d forged only for long enough to brush his teeth and grab a book before clambering back in. 

He stays there until around lunchtime, when the grumbling of his stomach becomes too loud to ignore. He throws on a pair of jeans and a jumper than he’d left strewn over the top of his suitcase and heads out. He could have easily called room service and it had been tempting, but Jongin figures the fresh air will do him some good. 

There’s a tiny, hole in the wall ramen place right by the hotel and Jongin heads there for lunch. In stilted Japanese he manages to order and the lady that runs the restaurant reminds him so much of the ahjummas from the mandu place near his house that Jongin feels suddenly, painfully homesick. 

Not quite ready to return back to the hotel when he’s done eating, Jongin wanders the streets. There’s a tiny park not far from here, Jongin knows, has seen the little square of green from his hotel room window. It takes a little wandering but eventually he finds it. There are a few families dotted around with their children, but it’s mostly quiet, and Jongin stuffs his hands into his pockets as he walks. Nobody spares him so much as a second glance and it feels surprisingly liberating not to be recognised, not to have to hide his face. 

Jongin hadn’t brought a coat out with him and eventually the cold forces him to head back to the hotel. When he gets back to his room, Jongin sees that his phone is flashing where he’d left it between the sheets of his bed and Jongin picks it up eagerly. But the message is just from Sehun, finally awake, complaining that he’s dying.

Instead of lingering on the disappointment, Jongin heads straight next door. It takes a few minutes before Sehun answers but when he does, hair standing up every which way and the expression on his face more pitiful than Jongin has seen in a long while, it lightens Jongin’s heart somewhat. 

He spends the rest of the day curled up in bed with his best friend, Sehun’s thin body pressed up against his as he dozes. Jongin winds a hand into his hair and if the way he pets Sehun is more to comfort himself than it is for Sehun, neither of them bothers to mention it. 

 

 

The flight home seems to take an age. 

Sehun falls asleep on his shoulder, this time, and Jongin holds him close. He covers them both up with a starchy airline blanket and rests his head against Sehun’s, breathes in the clean scent of his shampoo, and pretends that he’s helping his friend to fight off the last remaining dregs of his hangover. Pretends that his heart hasn’t been racing since the moment he got out of bed this morning, that the prospect of seeing Chanyeol tonight doesn’t make him feel a little sick with nerves. 

It’s still snowing when they touch down at Incheon. Jongin closes his eyes as they leave the terminal building, tips his head back, and allows the snowflakes to melt against his warm cheeks. 

Joonmyun herds them all into the van that’s waiting and everyone is surprisingly quiet for the journey back. Jongin imagines they all feel as exhausted and wrung out as he does, with the added strain of a killer hangover, if the state Sehun is still in is anything to go by. 

It isn’t really until they get back to Gangnam, until the van pulls up outside SooMan Corp, towering tall and imposing in the snow, that Joonmyun turns from the from passenger seat to address them all. 

“I just wanted to thank you all again for all of your hard work,” he starts. Sehun is still slumped against the window and Jongin elbows him awake as surreptitiously as he can. “I know I keep saying it, but I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done. This is the beginning of a really great journey for the company and I’m so pleased to have been a part of it with you all.”

Jongin sees Jinri roll her eyes fondly but Joonmyun looks at each of them so genuinely that Jongin can’t help the smile crawls onto his face. 

“Now go on, get yourselves home and get some rest,” Joonmyun says, shooing them out of the car. “All of your schedules are clear until January, but I expect to see you all at the New Years’ party, okay? No excuses.” 

Joonmyun looks right at him, eyebrows raised playfully, or as close to playful as Joonmyun is ever capable of being around them. Jongin nods and lowers his head. 

Jongin climbs from the van and collects his suitcase from the driver. Jinri and Soojung head off together after waving a quick goodbye, but Jongin waits for Sehun to stumble out lifelessly before he leaves. 

“You are coming, right? To New Years’?” Sehun asks, once he’s collected his own suitcase. He leans on it weakly and Jongin sees the way his skin, always so pale, looks a little grey.

“Yeah, don’t worry, I’ll come.” Jongin pulls his scarf out from his carry on and wraps his around his face. 

Sehun nods his head in approval but the motion must make his stomach flip, because he clings onto his suitcase a little harder. “I’m gonna go home before I pass out on the street,” Sehun says, grimacing. “Later, Jongin.” 

“Make sure you drink plenty of water!” Jongin calls after Sehun’s retreating back. Sehun waves him off and Jongin watches him go, the snow collecting in his hair and scarf, before he turns and heads towards the subway. 

Jongin’s half frozen by the time he gets home. He shakes his coat and scarf off and they drip snow down onto the carpet. Resolving to clean up later, Jongin lugs his suitcase into the bedroom and lays it open on the floor. He spends a good hour unpacking, shuffling around at his leisure and simply enjoying being back in his own space with no commitments to drag him out. 

Once he’s finished unpacking, Jongin flops down on top of his bed. The sheets are cold against his cheek but the feeling of lying in his own bed is one Jongin always underestimates how much he’s going to miss when he goes abroad. He must have been more exhausted than he’d thought, because before he knows it Jongin’s eyes are slipping shut and he falls asleep.

It isn’t until hours later that he jerks awake. It’s dark in his bedroom and Jongin pushes himself upright, blinking in confusion. His hair is sticking up every which way like a bird’s nest and Jongin reaches up to pat it sleepily when the sound of his intercom buzzing pierces through the silent apartment again and Jongin jumps almost out of his skin. 

A quick glance at the clock on the bedside table tells Jongin it’s gone seven and he almost leaps from the bed, stumbling over the empty suitcase still lying on the floor and nearly breaking his neck. 

Butterflies burst to life in the pit of his stomach and Jongin doesn’t even check the peephole when he gets into the hallway, just wrenches the door open. 

“Chanyeol.” Jongin’s voice is breathy even to his own ears and he’d be embarrassed if it didn't feel so good to see Chanyeol again. There’s snow in his hair, and his cheeks and nose are flushed a beautiful, rosy pink that makes Jongin want to lean in and kiss him. He doesn’t.

“Hey,” Chanyeol says, cramming his hands into his pockets. He smiles down at Jongin, but they’ve been together long enough, now, that Jongin can tell immediately that that smile isn’t entirely genuine. There are no teeth, no crinkles around his eyes, and Jongin has to fight off the urge to be sick. 

“Come in,” he says instead, taking a step away from the door. Chanyeol steps over the threshold, shucking his shoes in the hallway, and Jongin sees his eyes darting around curiously. This is the first time Chanyeol’s ever been in his apartment, Jongin realises with sudden clarity. This isn’t exactly how he expected it to go. 

“Can I get you anything to drink?” Jongin asks. “You look like you’re freezing.” 

Chanyeol shakes his head. He follows Jongin into the living room and when Jongin sits down, patting the spot on the sofa next to him, Chanyeol seems to finally look at him for the first time. There’s something in the expression on his face, something unfamiliar, and he sighs as he sits down. “How are you doing?”

“I’m- yeah, I’m okay,” Jongin says. He fidgets nervously in his seat, pulls the sleeves of his jumper down to cover his shaking hands. “Are you okay? You’ve seemed a little- I don’t know, you’ve seemed off. I mean, I know it’s been Christmas and you were probably just busy with your family and I’m worrying over nothing, but you just- you didn’t seem like yourself, when we talked.”

Chanyeol purses his lips and looks away. Silence stretches painfully between them, in a way it never has before. 

“Chanyeol?” Jongin asks again, quiet as a mouse. 

“I can’t do this.” Chanyeol stands suddenly from his seat and Jongin watches, stricken, as Chanyeol turns away from him. “I’m sorry, Jongin, I love you but I just- I can’t do this right now, I’m sorry.” 

Jongin’s mouth falls open but before he can even move Chanyeol is halfway across the room. He already has his coat and shoes on by the time Jongin scrambles up after him.

“Wait, Chanyeol, I don’t-“

“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol says again. He looks up at Jongin from the hallway and Jongin is struck by how panicked he looks, how scared. “I need to go.”

Jongin watches, dazed and helpless, as Chanyeol strides from the flat. The sound of the door slamming shut behind him echoes in the silence. Jongin’s legs are shaking and he clutches onto the back of the sofa for support. 

He doesn’t get much sleep that night. 

 

 

When Jongin wakes in the morning, after a restless night of tossing and turning, he considers only briefly whether it’s too early to go and see Chanyeol. Instead of tugging the sheets back over his head, like he so longs to do, Jongin draws all on all of the courage he has and drags himself from the warmth of his bed to go and get dressed. 

It’s stopped snowing by the time Jongin heads out, bundled up like a snowman, but the snow rests on the ground in sheets of pure, unspoilt white. The subway is unusually quiet and Jongin snags himself a seat in the emptiest carriage he can find. His feet tap a nervous rhythm on the slippery floor and Jongin has to keep taking deep breaths to calm himself. 

He’s never been good at confrontation and he’s always hated arguing, but whatever this thing is between him and Chanyeol, whatever Jongin’s done, it needs resolving. Whether it leads to a good outcome or not, Jongin would rather know exactly where he stands than twist himself in knots trying to second guess Chanyeol’s feelings. 

Once he gets to Sillim station, Jongin trudges up the stairs to try and bring some warmth to his body. The way to Chanyeol’s building feels much longer now than it had the last time he’d been there, although Jongin is sure most of that is down to the fact he keeps taking wrong turnings and having to go back on himself. 

By the time Jongin gets to Chanyeol’s place, his shoes are sodden and he can barely feel his toes. Thankfully, the security guard recognises him from his last visit and Jongin refuses to ponder on what exactly that means as he rides the lift up to Chanyeol’s floor. 

Before he knows it, Jongin finds himself standing in front of Chanyeol’s front door and it takes him a moment or two to gather up enough of the bravery that seems to have evaporated on the journey over here to lift up his hand and knock.

The wood is hard beneath his knuckles and Jongin fidgets as he’s left waiting. He’s just about to lift his hand and knock again when there’s the sound of a lock sliding and the door swings open. 

Chanyeol’s face falls as soon as their eyes meet and that’s not exactly the reaction Jongin was hoping for. 

“Jongin?” Chanyeol’s voice is hoarse. Jongin wonders if he’s the cause. “What are you doing here?”

“We need to talk,” Jongin says. He licks his lips and doesn’t miss the way Chanyeol’s eyes are drawn to his mouth. “Please let me in, I don’t want to do this on the doorstep.” 

Chanyeol turns to head into his flat and Jongin follows him gratefully. He steps out of his soaked shoes and hangs his coat up, and when he emerges into the living room Chanyeol is hovering by the sofa with his hands clasped in front of him. 

“Was it something I did?” Jongin starts. He pulls his scarf from around his neck slowly and he clutches it anxiously between his fingers. “Something happened while I was in Japan and I’ve been trying to figure out what I could have done or said ever since. Please, Chanyeol, whatever I’ve done to upset you, please just tell me so we can figure this out. I’ve missed you so much and I hate-“ Jongin clears his throat and looks down. “I hate feeling like I’ve done something to hurt you.”

“It isn’t you.” Chanyeol brings both hands and scrubs them over his face, pressing the heels of his palms down over his eyes. “You haven’t done anything, not really- it’s me, I’m the one that can’t-“

“Chanyeol, please.” Jongin takes a cautious step closer. He itches to take Chanyeol’s hands into his, to touch him. Chanyeol lowers his hands and he looks down at Jongin silently for a long moment before he finally speaks again. 

“When you told me you worked in fashion, why didn’t you tell me you were a model? All those times I asked and you brushed it aside, you said it was boring, why didn’t you-“

Jongin almost physically feels the colour drain from his face and his heart rate speeds up, jackrabbiting against his ribcage so hard Jongin is sure he’d be able to see his chest moving with the force of it if he looked down.

“How did you find out?” It doesn’t even sound like his voice and Jongin is just proud that he manages to choke the words out at all. 

“I saw you on a billboard,” Chanyeol begins softly. “On the subway, at Myeongil. I was on my way to visit my parents and as soon as I stepped off the train, there it was, this huge picture of you. I didn’t even believe it at first, because how could it be you? How could that be you, lying there in nothing but your underwear and looking like-“ Chanyeol trails off and Jongin is too afraid to hear the end of that sentence, to find out exactly what Chanyeol had thought he’d looked like. “Then I spoke to Baekhyun, and-“

“You spoke to Baekhyun?” Jongin finally lifts his head and he doesn’t bother trying to hide the hurt that laces his voice. “Why didn’t you speak to me? Why didn’t you call me and we could have-“

“I panicked, Jongin,” Chanyeol says. “I’m not proud of it, but I panicked. I must have stood there staring up at it for an hour like some kind of idiot or pervert and I- god, it made me feel totally fucking inadequate compared to you, okay? And I probably should have spoken to you, but I didn’t know what you were going to say and I didn’t know how I’d react, if I heard your voice. But I needed to speak to someone, so I spoke to Baekhyun.”

Jongin lays his scarf over the back of the sofa and he reaches out to take Chanyeol’s hands. They’re warm and clammy but it feels so good to finally touch him again after so long apart. “You felt inadequate? Why?”

Chanyeol scoffs but he doesn’t pull his hands away. “Are you kidding, have you seen you? God, Jongin, I already think you’re just about the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, but then seeing you like that? I don’t think you’d find many people who wouldn’t feel more than a little inferior.” There’s a beat of silence and then Chanyeol speaks again, his voice quieter and more vulnerable than Jongin has ever heard it. “Is that why you didn’t tell me? Are you ashamed of me? Are you worried about what people might think, if they see us together?”

Of all the things he’d expected Chanyeol to say, that certainly wasn’t it, and it takes Jongin a moment to find his voice. 

“No, _no_ , Chanyeol, I’m not ashamed of you. I can’t believe you would even think that.”

“Then why?” Chanyeol asks again. “Why didn’t you just tell me? You didn’t think I was going to have a problem with it, did you?”

Jongin pulls his hands away. He turns so he isn’t looking directly at Chanyeol and it’s harder now, than it had been earlier, to keep his breathing level, to stop himself from cracking over the words. 

“Most people do.” Jongin sees Chanyeol’s brows furrow from the corner of his eye but he ploughs on. If he doesn’t say this now he fears that he might never have the courage to do so again. “Usually, when people who are close to me find out what I do, it changes the way they look at me, it changes what they think about me. I couldn’t stand the thought of you thinking any less of me, too.”

Jongin feels his eyes sting and he blinks the wetness away furiously.

“My last boyfriend, he- we were together for a long time and I thought- I really thought that he cared about me. But then when he found out about the modelling, it completely changed the way he acted towards me. The way he would speak to me, even the way he looked at me, it wasn’t the same as it had been before.” Jongin takes a deep, gulping breath to try and steady his voice. “He’d tell me that he thought I’d be different. If I was willing to take my clothes off for money, then why did I act like such a prude when I was in bed with him? Why wasn’t I more willing to do anything that he asked me to when I was obviously such a whore?” The shake to his voice is uncontrollable and even now, even after so long, Jongin hates himself for the single tear that escapes and runs down his cheek. He scrubs it away viciously. “He used to joke that I must only spread my legs for men who earned more money than he did and if only he had a better job, what would I be willing to do for him then? So that’s why I didn’t tell you. Not because I’m ashamed of you, but because I couldn’t- I couldn’t stand the thought of you thinking about me like that, as well.”

The touch of Chanyeol’s fingers against his startles Jongin and he’s so lost in memories of what he’d been through that he almost jerks away from it. But Chanyeol’s fingers tangle gently with his and he pulls Jongin’s hand up from where it had been dangling by his side. Jongin turns with it and when he does Chanyeol pulls him in close, presses Jongin’s body into the warmth of his chest. Jongin goes easily, willingly, closing his eyes and burying his face in Chanyeol’s neck. 

“It’s not like that. I promise you, Jongin, I swear on my life it isn’t like that. Please don't think for one second that I think about you like that, because I don’t.” Chanyeol’s hand rubs soothing circles down his back and the deep timbre of his voice rumbles comfortably against Jongin’s chest. “I think the world of you, Jongin, and if I have to tell you a hundred times a day to make you believe me then I’ll do it.”

Jongin lifts his head from the crook of Chanyeol’s neck and he’s almost knocked for six by the fierce expression on Chanyeol’s face. 

“You’re way too good for an asshole like that and I’m sorry for being selfish, I’m sorry for making you relive that. But you don’t owe me anything, okay? You don’t owe anybody anything.” Chanyeol strokes Jongin’s neck, fingers coming up to the softness of his cheek. “You’re beautiful, Jongin. You are so beautiful, but you’re also kind and funny and a better person than most of the people I know, and you should be treated with the respect you deserve.” 

“You said you loved me. Yesterday, before you ran off, you said that you loved me,” Jongin almost whispers. “Do you?”

“I love you,” Chanyeol says, without hesitation. The smile that blossoms across Jongin’s face feels big enough to split his mouth clean in two. “That wasn’t exactly how I planned on telling you,” Chanyeol mumbles. “I’m sorry for running away and leaving you like that. It was cowardly.”

“I guess I could try and find it in my heart to forgive you,” Jongin hums. He digs his teeth into his bottom lip and, like clockwork, Chanyeol’s eyes drop down to follow it. “Kiss me.”

Chanyeol dips his head down and Jongin’s stomach lurches when their mouths touch. Chanyeol’s lips are warm against his, soft and familiar. Jongin presses the length of his body up against Chanyeol’s and he swallows down the resulting groan. 

“I love you, too,” Jongin gasps when he pulls away for breath. Chanyeol’s mouth is red and he stares down at Jongin with wide eyes. “I love you so much, I do, I-“ 

Chanyeol seals their mouths together again, steals the words from the tip of his tongue. Jongin brings his hands up to grip at Chanyeol’s shoulders. He slides his tongue into Chanyeol’s mouth, runs it slowly over his teeth and the ridges on the roof of his mouth, and Jongin savours the taste of him, the taste that he’s missed so much. 

“Stay here tonight.” Jongin can feel Chanyeol’s chest heaving against his when he pulls away. He dips his head to press their foreheads together. “Stay here. We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to, I just- I don’t want to let you go, not now, not again.”

Jongin can’t think of a single place he’d rather be. When he nods, Chanyeol dips down for another kiss, and Jongin swears he can taste the sweetness of his smile. He takes one hand from Chanyeol’s shoulder, runs it along the collar of his shirt and rests it over the dip of Chanyeol’s neck. His pulse hammers against Jongin’s palm. 

Eventually, after an age, Jongin pulls away. His mouth is already swollen and bruised and there’s something coiling in the basest pit of his stomach. Jongin looks up at Chanyeol from beneath his lashes and grins. It was still only late morning but they had an awful lot of catching up to do. 

 

 

Jongin wakes the next morning to the sound of footsteps padding across hardwood. He blinks, momentarily disoriented, but quickly settles when Chanyeol’s face swims into view. 

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” Chanyeol asks. His voice is rough with sleep and Jongin thinks he could easily get addicted to the sound of it. “Go back to sleep.”

“S’okay. Where are you going?” Jongin asks, trailing off as he stifles a yawn. Chanyeol’s bed is sinfully comfortable and Jongin stretches his body beneath the sheets, groaning happily when his spine cracks.

“Don’t make noises like that,” Chanyeol scolds, but his eyes look a shade darker and Jongin smiles up at him. “I have to go into the university for a few hours.” Chanyeol grabs a jumper that was dangling off the bottom of the bed frame, then goes to fix his hair. “Feel free to stay here, though, if you want. You can help yourself to anything in the fridge, watch whatever you want on television.” 

“I don’t even know if I have the energy to get out of bed,” Jongin says. He rolls over onto his side to better be able to see Chanyeol and cushions his head in the palm of his hand. 

“You’re more than welcome to stay there, too, if that’s what you want.” Chanyeol glances at Jongin’s reflection in the mirror. “For as long as you like.”

“You might regret saying that to me,” Jongin teases. “You have no idea how difficult I am to get out of bed in the morning.” 

Chanyeol finishes messing with his hair and wanders over to the bed. He rests his hands on the bottom of the frame and leans over, grinning at Jongin. “Is that an invitation to learn?”

Jongin pushes the covers back and gets up onto his knees. He’d borrowed a t-shirt from Chanyeol last night and it’s a little too snug around the shoulders and chest, stretching dangerously when he moves. His bottom half, though, is bare, save only for a pair of navy briefs. Jongin sees the way Chanyeol looks at his thighs just before he stops to kneel in front of him, but the weight of his gaze just brings a warm flush to Jongin’s cheeks. 

“It could be, if you think you’re up to it.” Chanyeol is leaning low enough over the bed that Jongin barely has to lean up to catch his mouth in a brief kiss. “We’re okay, right?” Jongin’s voice is soft and he looks incredibly earnest as he studies Chanyeol’s face. 

“Are you serious?” Chanyeol actually laughs, even looks a little incredulous. Jongin raises both eyebrows in confusion. “Shouldn’t it be me asking you that? Especially after the way I behaved.”

“It’s okay,” Jongin starts, shaking his head, but Chanyeol cuts him off before he can say anything further. 

“It’s not okay. I acted like a self-centred dickhead and I’m sorry.” Chanyeol presses a kiss to the crown of Jongin’s head. “But I’ll try and make it up to you, if you’ll let me.” 

“Letting me lounge around in your bed and eat all your food while you’re out is a pretty good start.” Jongin pauses and he toys with a loose thread on the bottom of his borrowed t-shirt. “Did you have any plans for New Years’ Eve yet?”

“A bunch of the other grad students invited me out for a few drinks,” Chanyeol shrugs. “Apart from that, I’m free as a bird.”

“Oh, it’s just, well, my company throws a big event every year and attendance isn’t exactly compulsory but my manager will throw a bitch fit if I don’t show my face.” Jongin smiles and tugs at the thread. It snaps beneath his fingers. “I was just wondering if you wanted to come with me? It’d be nice to finally be able to introduce you to my friends. I know they’re dying to meet you, but if you already have plans-“

“I’d love to.” Chanyeol’s grin is broad and white and Jongin, as always, can’t help but be caught up in the wake of his enthusiasm. “I’d better buy a new outfit, huh? We can’t be having me showing you up.” 

Chanyeol’s voice is teasing and he laughs when Jongin slaps him away in mock outrage. “It isn’t like that. They’ll be judging you on how well you treat me, not the way you dress or what you look like. They’re very protective of me, you see.”

“Oh, well, in that case, I’d better be on my absolute best behaviour, hadn’t I?” Jongin nods in agreement and tips his head up easily for another kiss. “I really need to get going, but I’m serious, okay? Stay here for as long as you want. I’ll be done around one, what do you say I come back and cook you some lunch? Anything you want. I’ll even swing by Seven Eleven on my way home and get fresh ingredients.”

“I’ll text you later when I decide what I want.” Jongin fixes Chanyeol with his sweetest smile and he knows he’s been foiled when Chanyeol laughs and rolls his eyes. 

“Sounds good. I’m running late so I’ll see you later, okay?” Chanyeol darts in to kiss him again and then he disappears from the bedroom. Jongin hears the sound of his footsteps hurrying through the living room and once the front door opens and closes behind him Jongin falls back onto the bed. The nest of blankets still holds some of the lingering warmth from where their bodies had lain, but it doesn’t even begin to compare to the glow of happiness that spreads through Jongin’s entire body. 

 

 

“I know you said your friends would only judge me on the way I treat you,” Chanyeol says as he adjusts the collar of his shirt in the mirror on the back of Jongin’s bedroom door, “but I’m not sure whether that makes me less nervous or _more_.”

Jongin casts an appraising eye over Chanyeol’s outfit from where he’s sprawled across the bottom of his bed. He’s dressed mostly in black, just like Jongin himself, and the effect of it makes Chanyeol look even taller and leaner than Jongin already knows him to be. There’s a white, grid pattern across the front of the shirt that Jongin thinks compliments the white piping around his own collar nicely. Chanyeol moves from his shirt and starts fussing with his hair, trying to straighten out a piece that’s fallen down over his eyes. Jongin smiles fondly. 

“My friends don’t bite, you know.” Jongin teases, pushing himself up from his elbows into a sitting position. “At least, most of them don’t. But I can handle the ones that do.”

“Very funny.” Chanyeol gives up on his hair with a huff and drops his hands down to his sides. He turns and gives Jongin a baleful look. “How do I look? You know what, it doesn’t matter, I’ll feel like I could throw up at any minute either way.”

“You look great.” Jongin stands. He crosses over to Chanyeol in a few short steps and brushes the front of his shirt down, mostly just for an excuse to feel the warmth of Chanyeol’s chest against his palms. “This sounds cruel, but it’s nice to see someone else freaking out for a change. It’s normally me.” 

“You know me, here to help.” The smile Chanyeol offers him is only a little shaky. He glances down at his watch. “It’s nearly nine thirty, shall we get going?”

“Yeah, just-“ Jongin slides a hand around to the back of Chanyeol’s neck and pulls him down. Chanyeol’s mouth falls open easily beneath his and Jongin has to resist the urge to slide his hands up into Chanyeol’s hair, to feel it slide between his fingers. Chanyeol looks stunned when Jongin pulls away. Jongin licks his lips. “Okay, let’s go.”

They get a taxi to Gangnam and Jongin lays a hand over Chanyeol’s thigh, unable to stop his fingers from drifting dangerously high and drawing little circles along the inside. Chanyeol chatters nervously the whole way there and the smile never leaves Jongin’s face, even as they climb out of the taxi when it pulls up outside SooMan Corp and they’re hit by a freezing gust of wind. Most of the snow has melted, but the cold hasn’t abated any and Jongin has to try not to slip in the residual slush as he takes Chanyeol by the wrist and pulls him towards the front entrance. 

Every year one of the conference rooms is cleared out and redecorated for the celebrations. Jongin has always liked that, has always been comforted by the fact that if he does have to be out, he’s at least surrounded by people he knows. At least he doesn’t have to spend the evening dodging strangers and, as the night draws on, deflecting the unwanted attentions of drunkards. 

They ride the lift up to the fifteenth floor and Chanyeol stares silently up at the numbers as they rise. “You won’t leave me if your friends hate me, right?” He asks when they're two floors away. Jongin waits until they reach their floor before he answers. 

“Not right away.” He fixes Chanyeol with a reassuring smile and then takes hold of his hand. The doors open and Jongin laces their fingers together. “You’ll be fine. They’ll love you.”

They’re hit by a wall of sound as soon as the lift doors open. Jongin leads Chanyeol out by the hand and he’s about to tug him off to get a drink when Joonmyun appears almost out of nowhere. 

“Jongin! You made it!” He has a glass of champagne in one hand and Jongin notes with some amusement that his pale cheeks are already rosy. “And who’s this?”

His gaze drifts over to Chanyeol, who bows politely. 

“This is Chanyeol, my boyfriend.” Something flutters in his stomach when he says that, but Chanyeol squeezes his hand and the weight of his palm against Jongin’s feels reassuring. “Chanyeol, this is my manager, Joonmyun.” 

“Pleasure to meet you,” Chanyeol says, voice smooth and soft like silk. Jongin has never heard it like that before. 

Joonmyun appraises Chanyeol for a moment longer and then his face splits into a broad smile. “Boyfriend, hm?” Joonmyun takes a sip of his champagne and he glances at Jongin over the rim of his glass. Jongin smiles. “Well, I know our Jongin can look after himself, but you’d best take good care of him, Chanyeol.” Joonmyun lifts a hand to stroke a thumb fondly over Jongin’s cheek. “He’s one of life’s special ones.” 

Jongin pushes Joonmyun’s hand away with an embarrassed little whine but Chanyeol’s laugh is delighted. “I’m finding out just how special every single day.” 

Jongin turns pillar box red, the flush running over his cheeks and all the way up the back of his neck, but Joonmyun just nods his head in approval. 

“Well, I’ll let you boys go, I’m sure you have plenty more introductions to make.” Joonmyun claps Chanyeol on the shoulder as they make to walk around him. “I’ll see you both later on, I imagine. Oh, and make sure to try some of the champagne, it’s delightful.”

Jongin pulls on Chanyeol’s hand forcefully and he follows in Jongin’s wake like an obedient dog. “Joonmyun seems nice,” Chanyeol hums. 

“Nice in the same way an embarrassing dad is nice,” Jongin grumbles, without any real heat. 

The walk to the bar is like running a gauntlet. Almost everyone they bump into on the way stops Jongin to introduce themselves to the stranger attached to his arm. Jongin watches with an increasing amount of amusement as Chanyeol charms every single one of his colleagues. He even manages to get a kiss from Soojung, when they bump into her and Amber almost literally when they finally make it to the bar. 

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Jongin’s told me so much about you.” She pushes a strand of hair away from her eyes as she steps back and her nails sparkle nearly as brightly as her eyes. 

“Oh yeah?” Chanyeol hums, turning to look playfully at Jongin. “All good, I hope?”

“Mostly,” Soojung teases. Jongin reaches up to wipe away the residual pink smear of lipstick off Chanyeol’s cheek. Soojung sticks her tongue out. 

Amber returns with from the bar with four bottles of beer cradled in her hands. “I know Joonmyun probably told you to get champagne,” she says with a grin as she distributes the bottles out between them all, “but this is the real good stuff.” 

They hang out with the girls for a while, Jongin content to lean quietly against the bar with his beer as Soojung and Amber take turns interrogating Chanyeol, until eventually Amber takes Soojung by the hand and pulls drags her off to mingle with some of the other designers. 

“Well,” Chanyeol begins as he leans on the bar next to Jongin, “nobody’s tried to bite me yet, I’d say this is all going pretty well, so far.” He knocks his hip against Jongin’s and Jongin smiles up at him. His face is already red from the beer and Jongin bats Chanyeol’s hand away when it comes up to poke at his cheeks. 

“That’s because this was just a warm up,” Jongin says sagely. “Wait until you meet-“ 

Jongin never gets to finish that sentence.

“There you are, you little shit!” A familiar voice calls from across the room and Jongin braces himself as his vision is obscured by a shock of blond hair and then he’s grabbed around the neck. “Joonmyun told me you got here nearly an hour ago, where have you been hiding, huh?” 

Sehun pulls back, hands still on Jongin’s shoulders. He suddenly seems to realise that Jongin isn’t alone and Jongin hopes the smile he offers Sehun isn’t too obviously nervous. 

“Sehun, meet Chanyeol.”

Sehun’s eyes bug comically and he wheels away from Jongin. 

“Hey,” Chanyeol says. He straightens up and inclines his head politely. 

“Wow, hey, I did _not_ expect to be meeting you tonight,” Sehun says. He looks Chanyeol up and down critically and then glances over at Jongin. “You decided to tell him about-?”

“It’s a long story.” Jongin swipes his thumb over the neck of his beer bottle, collects the moisture there onto his skin. “I’ll tell you about it some other time. But yeah, he knows.” Jongin’s gaze drifts up to Chanyeol’s face and he catches the way Chanyeol’s eyes linger on him, over Sehun’s shoulder. It’s that strange way that he’d been looking at Jongin for weeks before he went to Japan, and then in the morning when he’d woken up in Chanyeol’s bed. Jongin wonders if Chanyeol ever sees it on his face, too. 

“Damn, well, hey, it’s good to finally meet you. Jongin’s been mooning over you for months but I was beginning to wonder whether we were ever going to meet you. I thought you might be just as big a hermit as Jongin.” Sehun has that fiendish smile on his face that never, ever means good things for Jongin. 

“Oh, no, I’ve been trying to get him to be less of a hermit, actually, but these things take time.” 

Jongin shoots Chanyeol a look of betrayal but Sehun, that bastard, his face actually lights up with pure, unadulterated glee. 

“Is that right?” They’re almost the same height so it’s easy for Sehun to fling an arm over Chanyeol’s shoulders. “Well then, let me buy you another drink.”

Sehun clings to the pair of them for the rest of the night like an oversized leach, but Chanyeol doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he and Sehun get on like a house on fire and it isn’t long before they begin to tease Jongin in tandem. Jongin isn't sure whether he should be afraid or not, but what he does know is that if this friendship continues after tonight Jongin will never be allowed to have a quiet weekend in by himself ever again. 

Still, when Chanyeol excuses himself to go to the bathroom and Sehun slides across the booth they’ve co-opted to ruffle Jongin’s hair playfully, he can’t help the grin that crawls across his face. 

“I like him,” Sehun says and it might be the amount he’s had to drink, but either way Jongin flushes with happiness at his friend’s approval. 

“Yeah?” Jongin asks. He takes a long swig of beer to cover the way his voice cracks. 

“Yeah, he seems pretty cool.” Sehun takes Jongin’s hand and squeezes it briefly. “And you know how they say opposites attract.”

Jongin yanks his hand away in outrage and Sehun falls about laughing. He’s still laughing when Chanyeol returns, looking bewildered between the two of them, until Sehun leans in to press a kiss to Jongin’s temple and then moves to allow Chanyeol back into the booth. 

They stay until about half an hour past midnight. Jongin had slapped Sehun away when he’d leant in playfully for a kiss at the countdown and it’s harder than Jongin thought it would be, pulling away from the warmth of Chanyeol’s mouth. He tastes like beer and it should be disgusting, Jongin can taste it on his own breath, too, but all it does it make Jongin want to slide into his lap and taste more of it, Sehun’s presence be damned. 

Sehun shoots him a look when they do finally pull apart and for the first time in a long while, Jongin refuses to be embarrassed, refuses to repentant for his broad smile or the arousal he can feel curling, hot and heavy, in his stomach. 

“Let’s get out of here soon, okay?” Jongin leans in to whisper, his lips brushing over the shell of Chanyeol’s ear. Chanyeol agrees easily. They say their goodbyes to Sehun, who, to Jongin’s mixed horror and pleasure, exchanges numbers with Chanyeol, and Chanyeol twines their fingers together as they leave.

The air is cold enough outside by now that the way it bites Jongin’s face sobers him up a little. They fall into the back of a taxi together and watch the occasional firework explode in colour across the sky. Jongin doesn’t release Chanyeol’s hand, not even when they get back to Hapjeong, and he has to unlock his front door clumsily with his left.

As soon as Chanyeol closes the door behind them, Jongin turns and catches his mouth again. His fingers immediately tangle in Chanyeol’s hair, like he’d so badly wanted to do all those hours ago, and Jongin hears Chanyeol groan when he tugs gently. 

“I should probably- probably go,” Chanyeol mumbles against Jongin’s mouth, but his voice is thick and he sounds like leaving is the absolute last thing he wants to do. 

Jongin pulls back just enough to speak. “Don’t,” he says, and his voice sounds alien, rough and full of arousal. “Stay.”

The look he fixes Chanyeol with is loaded and it’s probably that, even more than the fingers curled into the soft hair at the nape of his neck, that has Chanyeol gasping and curling down to take Jongin’s mouth again. 

“We don’t have to-“ Chanyeol starts to say, even as he moves from Jongin’s mouth and presses hot, searing kisses down the column of his throat. “I can wait, if you’re not ready, I-“

“I know you can, that’s why I want to.” Jongin pulls away from Chanyeol’s grip with great effort. He takes Chanyeol by the wrist and pulls him past the dark living room, down the hallway and into his bedroom. Jongin pauses only to flick the lamp on by the side of the bed and then he’s sinking down onto the mattress, tugging Chanyeol with him by the arm. 

Jongin’s skin feels molten, his entire body ready to burst into flame, and the smile he levels at Chanyeol before he pulls him into an open mouthed kiss is full of promise. 

Chanyeol’s hands sink into the mattress either side of his head and Jongin tips his head back into the pillow, gasps into Chanyeol’s mouth when he rearranges himself and one leg comes to rest between Jongin’s thighs, pressing up between his legs. 

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll-“ Chanyeol stutters but Jongin shakes his head. He reaches up with trembling fingers and slowly undoes the buttons of Chanyeol’s shirt. It hangs loosely about Chanyeol’s shoulders like a veil once it’s unfastened and Jongin wastes no times in pushing it down and off, palms skating down the bare skin of his back. 

Jongin drags his hands all the way down, right to the waistband of Chanyeol’s dress pants hung low around his waist. Chanyeol’s hips stutter. Jongin brings his hands around to the front and pulls the zipper down. 

“Wait, hang on, let me catch up a little,” Chanyeol says and Jongin can hear the laugh in his voice even as it shakes. He deftly undoes Jongin’s shirt. Jongin has to arch his back in order for Chanyeol to pull it out from underneath him and the movement has them pressed tight together, skin to skin. Chanyeol pulls back, the distance between them brief and fleeting as Jongin pushes down on Chanyeol’s hips to bring him down closer, to push their bodies together again. 

Chanyeol’s pants are still gaping open and Jongin slides a hand in boldly, stares up at Chanyeol with wide, dark eyes as he presses his palm down against the beginnings of Chanyeol’s hard on. 

“Fuck, Jongin.” It’s been a long time since Jongin’s heard his own name spoken like that. Emboldened, he dips his hand into Chanyeol’s underwear and curls his fingers around his cock. It twitches in his palm and it feels so right, somehow. Chanyeol quakes above him and Jongin can feel the tension beneath his other hand, the one still clutching onto Chanyeol’s hip, can feel Chanyeol straining not to push forward into Jongin’s touch. 

“It’s okay,” Jongin soothes. Chanyeol’s head falls forward and he bites at Jongin’s exposed collarbones. “I want-“ Jongin starts. He licks his lips and drags his fingers up to the head of Chanyeol’s cock, works him steadily until there’s precome leaking over his palm and Chanyeol is making these delicious little gasping noises in the back of his throat. “I want you to fuck me, but it’s been a while.”

Chanyeol kisses his way up Jongin’s throat, all the way up to his ear and finally to his cheek. “I’ll be gentle, I promise. I’ll do whatever you want,” he knocks their noses together, presses their foreheads close, “just tell me if you want to stop and we will, okay? I promise.”

Jongin feels a sudden, overwhelming rush of adoration bursting behind his ribcage and he surges up to kiss Chanyeol, open mouthed and almost desperate. He pulls his hand out of Chanyeol’s underwear, pushes himself up onto his elbows, and Chanyeol has to pull back, too, so Jongin can wriggle out of his hold. 

He leans over to rummage in the drawer by the bed, and Jongin smiles when he feels Chanyeol’s body cant forward to press his open mouth against the bare slope of Jongin’s shoulder blade. When Jongin returns he deposits the lube and the condom on the mattress and then he sits back, appraises Chanyeol for a minute. 

“Let me sit in your lap,” Jongin says, flush rising up on his cheeks. It spills down his chest and Chanyeol groans, mouth falling open even as he rolls obediently onto his back, swaps places with Jongin. 

Chanyeol’s pants slip down to his thighs when he moves. Jongin slots into the splay of his legs and tugs them down and off. He tugs at Chanyeol’s underwear, too, until Chanyeol is miles of blissfully naked skin, stretched out across Jongin’s bed like a piece of artwork. 

“No fair,” Chanyeol whines. Jongin laughs and drops his hands to his own pants. He drags them and his underwear down quickly, then tosses them over the side of the bed. His cock curls against his belly and Jongin feels suddenly self-conscious. It must be obvious on his face because Chanyeol props himself up on one elbow and reaches out for him. Jongin sees the way his bicep tenses as it takes his weight and his mouth feels dry. 

“Are you okay?” Chanyeol asks. Jongin nods but he lowers his eyes. “I bet people tell you how beautiful you are all the time,” Chanyeol says suddenly, “but you’re more than just the way you look. It’s the person you are that makes you so beautiful to me.” He hooks his fingers under Jongin’s chin and gently tips his head up. “You looked gorgeous in that advert, but I definitely prefer you like this.”

Jongin stares down at him for a long, silent moment, barely able to hear anything over the rushing of blood in his ears. Then he reaches over for the lube and presses it into Chanyeol’s hands. “Will you?”

Chanyeol lowers his legs so that they’re flat against the bed and he takes hold of Jongin’s hips, guides him so that he sits astride Chanyeol’s pelvis. Jongin shifts to rest some of his weight on his thighs and he can’t help keening when Chanyeol’s cock brushes against the inside, leaves a wet streak of precome against his skin. 

The pop of the cap on the lube is painfully loud and Jongin watches as Chanyeol coats two, three fingers liberally, until they’re so slick they glisten in the low light. His hands slide around to Jongin’s ass and Jongin flinches forward at the cold touch against bare skin. Chanyeol murmurs a quiet little reassurance and Jongin stills, tipping his hips forward just a fraction, just enough. 

The first finger that slides between his cheeks has Jongin’s eyes fluttering shut. His cock is painful against his stomach and one of Jongin’s hands drifts down to tug on it, fingers circling loosely around the base when Chanyeol applies gentle pressure to his entrance and then presses in. 

Jongin’s touched himself in the time between his last relationship and now, but it’s always different when it’s somebody else and despite how much he wants this it still takes Jongin a minute to relax. Chanyeol slides his finger into him slowly, though, and by the time he’s knuckle deep Jongin is squirming, thighs squeezing tight around Chanyeol’s hips. 

“Ready for more?” Chanyeol murmurs. His voice already sounds so wrecked. Jongin nods his head, hair flopping down over his eyes, and they’re still shut as Chanyeol eases another finger into him. “You’re so good, Jongin, you’re doing so well.” His voice is so deep Jongin swears he can feel the bass throbbing in his bones. He spreads his fingers inside Jongin and it burns enough to have Jongin gasping, eyes flying open even as he tips his head back. 

“Is it too much?” Chanyeol asks, stilling his fingers. Jongin’s hand has gone limp around his cock and Chanyeol covers it with his own, drags both of their hands up to the head. He smears the precome beading there and Jongin’s hips jerk up in response. 

“No, it’s okay,” Jongin breathes, “I’m okay. More, Chanyeol, please.” 

The first press of the third finger makes Jongin cry out and Chanyeol stops when he’s only in to the first knuckle. Jongin shifts, raising himself up on quivering thighs and laying both palms on Chanyeol’s chest for support. His nails dig tiny little crescents into Chanyeol’s skin but he nods his head and Chanyeol slides in further, wriggling in beside the other fingers until all three are pressed deep inside him. 

“Oh my god,” Jongin sobs. His skin gleams the colour of spun gold where it catches the light, shadows spilling over the dip of his abs as his stomach tenses. Jongin eases back off Chanyeol’s chest, seats himself down onto Chanyeol’s hand and he cries out, loud and sharp and stunned, when the motion pushes the tips of Chanyeol’s fingers up against his prostate. “There,” Jongin groans, lifting his hips up a fraction and then easing back down. “There, please, Chanyeol, please-“

“Shh, I’ve got you, it’s okay.” Chanyeol spreads his fingers apart and Jongin feels like he’s being torn in two. Then he grinds them back down again, applying persistent pressure against Jongin’s prostate, and Jongin forgets about how stuffed full he feels, how tight it feels, forgets about everything but the white, hot pleasure that rushes up his spine. 

Jongin has never been noisy in bed, not by any means, but he can’t help the sounds that spill from his throat as Chanyeol twists his wrist and drives his fingers into him, as he fingers him open so slow and hot and so good Jongin could cry, could weep with how good it feels. 

“More, Chanyeol, please.” Jongin shifts, wriggles further back in Chanyeol’s lap, and Chanyeol’s whole body shudders beneath him when his cock slips between Jongin’s thighs. Jongin clamps down, hard, and Chanyeol’s resulting moan sounds like it could move mountains. “I want more, I want you to fuck me, please.”

“Okay, okay, god Jongin, you have no idea-“ he slides his fingers free of Jongin’s body and the sound it makes is obscene. Suddenly, the loss feels too much and Jongin’s hips rock forward of their own accord, pressing the length of Chanyeol’s cock up between his ass cheeks. 

“Wait, Jongin, fuck- wait-“ Chanyeol sounds physically pained as he reaches for the discarded condom packet. His fingers are still covered in lube and they’re shaking so much that it takes him a few tries to tear the foil open. He reaches between their bodies to roll the condom on and then wipes the lube residue off down the length. 

“Tell me if I hurt you,” Chanyeol says. His knuckles knock against Jongin’s ass as he lines the head of his cock up against Jongin’s entrance. It feels much bigger than three fingers did and Jongin nods, taking a deep, shuddering breath to try and stop himself tensing up. 

The first press in is almost too much. If Jongin had felt full on three fingers it’s nothing compared to the way the head of Chanyeol’s cock splits him open. His body hasn’t forgotten the way it feels, though, his muscle memory still remembers what to do, no matter how long it’s been. Jongin braces his palms against Chanyeol’s chest again and when he tips his hips forward the slide into him becomes much easier. Gradually, inch-by-inch, Chanyeol slides in until he’s bottoming out with a long, drawn out moan. 

“Shit, Jongin, you feel so fucking good.” Chanyeol squeezes his eyes shut and Jongin watches as he braces himself on both elbows. His skin is clammy and tacky beneath Jongin’s palms. “Are you okay? Is it- oh, _fuck_.” 

Jongin pushes his hips back and sinks down, sitting back until his ass is pressed snug against Chanyeol’s pelvis. “I’m okay, I’m- _ah_ -“ 

Jongin tips his head up, bares the column of his throat. His cock feels unbearably heavy between his legs but Jongin is too preoccupied with the way Chanyeol feels inside him, the way he feels like he’s burning with pleasure from the inside out. 

They slowly build up a rhythm together. Chanyeol brings one hand up to Jongin’s back, fingers splayed as he strokes up and down the notches of his spine. He brings his legs up for leverage, too, plants his feet against the mattress, and Jongin uses them to lean against. The motion of his hips is languid, at first, but then Chanyeol pushes up into him, meets Jongin as he bears down, and it presses the head of his cock into Jongin’s prostate. 

“Fuck, Chanyeol, please, _please_ ,” Jongin moans, bouncing almost frantically. Chanyeol’s hand slides down to the small of his back, thumb pressing just into the crease of his ass. 

“You’re amazing, Jongin,” Chanyeol gasps. His hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat and he has to squeeze his eyes shut against a sudden wave of pleasure. Jongin thinks he might come, but Chanyeol grits his teeth and thrusts up so hard Jongin almost gets unseated. “You’re so good, so fucking good.”

Jongin’s head falls back and the praise is almost too much. His stomach feels tight and his cock slaps against his stomach with every motion of his hips. Jongin curls his fingers around the head, smears the precome with his thumb, and his whole body flinches. 

“Chanyeol, I’m gonna-“ He stares up at the ceiling and it’s hard to breathe, let alone speak. “I’m gonna come, I’m so close, please, _Chanyeol_.”

“It’s okay,” Chanyeol soothes, even though his voice is so strung out it’s a wonder he can even use it. “You can come, it’s okay.” He moves his hand from Jongin’s back, instead covers Jongin’s hand on his cock. They work him together, jacking him off until Jongin’s whole body seizes up and orgasm slams into him with the force of a freight train. 

Jongin grits his teeth as his comes. He chokes on Chanyeol’s name and then his mouth falls open as his pleasure crests and then breaks. Jongin feels Chanyeol reach his peak, too, feels the heat of it deep inside his body as he spills into the condom. 

They’re both gasping as they come down. Jongin feels like his heart might beat right out of his chest, thudding like a drum against the back of his ribs. His head lolls, chin bumping his chest, and Jongin barely has the energy to lift it, even when he feels Chanyeol shift beneath him. 

“Jongin?” Chanyeol’s voice cracks on the second syllable. He clears his throat and tries again. “Jongin, are you okay?” His fingers stroke comforting little circles over Jongin’s hipbones. 

Jongin whines softly and Chanyeol grins, wide and full of teeth. 

“Speechless, huh? I must say, I’m flattered.” He brings his hand back up to support Jongin’s back as he lowers his legs. Jongin’s thighs are still trembling and when he tries to lift himself up they give way beneath him. They both hiss when Jongin sinks back down onto Chanyeol’s spent cock. “Hey, here, hang on, I’ve got you.”

Chanyeol cradles Jongin’s back and the world spins as he rolls them both over. Jongin’s breath leaves his chest in a whoosh as his back hits the mattress. Chanyeol leans over him to press a kiss to Jongin’s forehead and then pulls away, gently eases his cock free of Jongin’s body. 

Jongin watches as Chanyeol climbs from the bed. He crosses the room on unsteady legs and tosses the used condom into the bin, then staggers back to the bed like a drunkard. 

“Come here,” Jongin says, voice hoarse. He holds his hand out, palm up and still shaking a little. The look on Chanyeol’s face is so tender it’s almost painful. He takes Jongin’s hand and then climbs up beside him. 

The sheets stick to Jongin’s back. He grimaces as he rolls onto his side. Chanyeol props himself up on his elbow so that they’re facing each other, their joint hand resting on the mattress between them, and he’s smiling as Jongin tangles their bare legs together. 

“I love you,” Jongin murmurs. The way Chanyeol is looking at him makes him feel suddenly shy. 

“I love you, too.” Chanyeol presses a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Was that okay for you? I wasn’t too rough, was I? I forget myself, sometimes, and I-“

Jongin laughs, a beautiful, tinkling little giggle that steals the words from the tip of Chanyeol’s tongue. 

“It was perfect,” he says, looking down at their hands briefly. Chanyeol’s fingers are drawing patterns over the back of his palm. “You were perfect. Thank you.”

“I meant what I said before, you know.” 

“What?” Jongin’s eyelids are starting to droop and it’s a struggle to keep himself awake. 

“About how beautiful you are.” Jongin’s eyes flicker open. Chanyeol’s smiling but he looks deadly serious. Jongin isn’t sure what to say. “I know you do a job that’s kind of dependent on you looking good, and you do, _god_ you do. I bet there are men and women up and down the country who wish they could work a tiny pair of pants half as well as you can.” 

Jongin feels himself starting to colour and he’s tempted to hide his face. Chanyeol squeezes his hand. 

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that that isn’t the be and end all of everything that you are, for me.” Chanyeol gazes at him thoughtfully. “It’s an important part of you, and I’m fine with that, but it’s all of the other bits of you that I fell in love with. These fingers,” Chanyeol lifts their joint hands and kisses his knuckles. “That smile, your laugh. How embarrassed you get when I compliment you,” Chanyeol smiles at him knowingly. “How much you love your dogs, and your friends. The way you look all bundled up in the cold. Joonmyun was right, you’re special. I feel privileged that you’ve allowed me to get this close to you and I don’t want you to ever think that I’m with you for any other reason than that I love you. I love every single little bit of you, Jongin.”

There’s a traitorous wetness building behind Jongin’s eyes and he blinks it away rapidly. He stares down at their joint hands and he’s lost for words, doesn’t know how to explain how much all of that means to him. In the end he doesn’t say anything. He just crawls into Chanyeol’s arms and buries his face into his chest. 

The way Chanyeol laughs makes his whole body vibrate and Jongin’s teeth almost chatter. Chanyeol’s arms come up to bracket him, to hold him close, and Jongin closes his eyes. 

“Happy new year, Chanyeol,” he says softly, lips brushing Chanyeol’s skin as he speaks. 

“Happy new year, Jongin,” Chanyeol repeats. He leans over to flick the light off and then buries his nose into Jongin’s hair. He presses a soft kiss there and Jongin feels his eyelashes flutter. 

Chanyeol’s heartbeat thumps a rhythm beneath his ear and Jongin allows it to soothe him to sleep. 

 

 

They wake late the next morning. 

There’s a string of messages on his phone from Sehun that are almost entirely suggestive emoticons that Jongin chooses very pointedly not to answer. There’s also one from Baekhyun, too, that Jongin definitely doesn’t ignore. 

_Happy new year Jonginnie!! A little blond birdie told me you and Chanyeol (hey buddy, check kkt) spent the night together last night. You can save the gory details for when you come round to mine for dinner later. And don’t even think about trying to say no, now that you’re sleeping with Chanyeol you’ll NEVER get out of seeing me when I call kekekekeke >:) _

Chanyeol groans when Jongin shows him the message. He pulls the sheets up over his head and refuses to come out until Jongin promises him breakfast from the mandu place downstairs. 

They spend most of the day lazing around Jongin’s place and it isn’t until much later, after they share a shower and Jongin gets so distracted kissing Chanyeol that their fingers wrinkle up into prunes, that they wrap up against the cold and head out to Baekhyun’s flat. 

Chanyeol has to borrow a jumper from Jongin to protect him from the cold, and he’s still complaining about it, his breath fogging up in the air in front of him and making him look like a great, disgruntled dragon, when someone taps Jongin on the arm. 

“I’m sorry, I know this is incredibly rude and I don’t mean to disturb you, but are you Kai?” 

Chanyeol and Jongin both turn as one. The girl that looks up at them is pretty, from what Jongin can see of her face behind her scarf. Jongin blinks for a second, struck dumb, before he realises that both the girl and Chanyeol are staring at him, waiting for an answer. 

“Um- yes, yeah, I am.” Jongin’s voice wavers a little. He blames it on the impish grin he can see crawling up onto Chanyeol’s face. 

“Would it be too much to ask for a quick autograph? I’m sorry, I know you must get disturbed like this all the time.” 

“It’s okay,” Jongin says softly, determined not to look at Chanyeol. 

“Oh, thank you so much!” She goes to rummage in her bag and the scarf slips down from around her mouth. “I must have some paper in here somewhere. Here we go!” She pulls a Moleskine out and flips it open to the back, then dives back into her bag for a biro. 

“It’s not a problem, honestly. Who should I make it out to?” Jongin asks, taking hold of the pen once she finds it. 

“Juhyun, please. If you could.” Her voice is soft and calming. It reminds Jongin of Soojung. “I’ve been a big fan of yours for years. I always buy the underwear you endorse for my boyfriend.” 

Jongin smiles up at her as he finishes signing, _happy new year juhyun~ thank you for your support, I hope 2016 is full of health and happiness, love kai._ She accepts the notebook and pen from him gratefully and stows them back into her bag. Juhyun looks like she’s about to bow and go off on her way, when Chanyeol suddenly speaks up. 

“Hey, do you have a phone on you?” He smiles at Juhyun and she nods. “Want me to take a picture of you guys?”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly,” she says, though Jongin can see the way she looks at him hopefully. He doesn’t even have the heart to scowl at Chanyeol. “I’ve already taken up too much of your time.” 

“You can, if you want,” Jongin says, hoping furiously that he isn’t blushing. “I don’t mind.”

“Really? Thank you so much!” She grabs her phone from her pocket and holds it out to Chanyeol. 

Chanyeol takes a few steps away from them but Jongin can still see the wide grin that’s splitting his mouth, even as he holds the phone up in front of his face. 

“Okay, smile! On three; one, two, three!” 

Jongin smiles obediently at the camera and it stays on his face when Chanyeol shows Juhyun the picture for approval, when he sees how happy she is. 

“Thank you so much, honestly. That was so kind, of you both.” She bows at both Jongin and Chanyeol in turn. Chanyeol looks incredibly pleased with himself. “Happy new year!” She beams and then heads off in the opposite direction, her shoes clicking against the pavement. 

Jongin busies himself with rearranging his scarf back around his face. They set off walking in the direction of the subway again and there’s a moment of loaded silence before Chanyeol finally clears his throat and speaks.

“So, is this something I’m gonna have to get used to, now? Is this part of the daily life of a celebrity?” Chanyeol teases. Jongin punches him in the stomach. 

“Sometimes,” Jongin mumbles into his scarf. His breath escapes in a white cloud between the threads and Chanyeol throws an arm over his shoulder, even as he nurses his stomach with the other. Jongin nestles in closer for warmth. 

His cheeks feel a little rosy but where once, not too long ago, an encounter like that, especially in front of someone else, would have left Jongin feeling mortified, now he just feels mildly embarrassed and even slightly pleased with himself. 

They get to Hapjeong station and Jongin pulls away from Chanyeol’s embrace. They ride the escalator down together, Jongin in front and Chanyeol one step behind. Chanyeol throws his arms over Jongin’s shoulders, pulls playfully on the ends of Jongin’s scarf, and Jongin doesn’t think he’s ever been happier.


End file.
